


Tough Love

by Ahmose_Inarus



Series: Helios Rising [2]
Category: Criminal Minds, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-20
Updated: 2015-11-17
Packaged: 2018-03-31 11:12:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 35,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3975925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ahmose_Inarus/pseuds/Ahmose_Inarus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Love comes with so much...  cuddles, kisses, sweet words...  but it also comes with the other stuff...  fighting...  teasing...  and just picking on one another.  Logan, Spencer and Remy are no different.  They LOVE to pick on each other.  Here is a collection of those times...  All the chapters take place before Helios Rising, but the chapters themselves are in no particular chronological order.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Bird Named Gerard

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SpencerRemyLvr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpencerRemyLvr/gifts).

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of an early Saturday morning where a normally sweet and innocent Spencer Reid decides to pick on Remy LeBeau for a change. Logan is torn between amused and annoyed.

EARLY MORNING, UPSTATE NEW YORK

Normally, the old but well maintained mansion would already be a hive of activity. Children and adults alike would be preparing for the day. Kids would be getting breakfast, dressing, brushing their teeth, some scrambling to finish homework at the last minute. Adults would be preparing for the day whether it was to teach their classes, or dressing out for what passed as a morning workout at the Xavier Institute for the Gifted.

But today was a Saturday. The one day of the week when all were permitted to sleep in. There were no classes to teach or attend. No jobs to go to, no workouts to power through. This was the one day when everyone just… rested.

In a room on the third floor, at the farthest end of the hall, one person had awoken and was enjoying the peace of the morning. Spencer Reid, visiting for the weekend, sat curled up in an armchair in the corner, his back to the open window that was allowing the morning breeze and the light of the rising sun into the room, casting its brilliance over the pages of the book in the young man's hands. But his eyes weren't on the book. They were on the two men in the large bed before him. The men he had come to visit.

Reid smiled slightly, watching the pair sleep on and enjoying just being able to sit in the quiet and watch them, study them. It was a bit hard to do when they pair were awake. They were loud, boisterous, and the taller of the two was never still. Reid didn't think he knew HOW to be still. Even if he was, he almost seemed to vibrate with pent up energy. It was quite endearing, seeing the exuberance of a child in a man his age. The other was just rough, gruff and presented himself as a walking neon sign of "I am male, hear me roar". And if you annoyed him enough (as the other tended to do), he would…

The pair were constantly bickering, and while Reid enjoyed witnessing the events that the pair constantly staged, he couldn't help but bask in the moment of them being still, quiet, peaceful. But nothing lasts forever. He watched as the shorter, more powerfully built of the pair finally stirred. Resting up close to the taller man, the one who was waking seemed to sniff about from his place with his head pressed against the chest of the other. He grumbled and then a lazy hand reached back and groped around. When it found nothing, the man slowly lifted his head and cast his gaze around the room, finally falling on the young man curled up in the chair.

Reid smiled, "morning, Logan." He murmured. The man blinked his blue eyes sleepily, then sighed and let his head drop down to the bed again. He was still for a moment, then sucked in a deep breath and rolled away from the third, arching his back, stretching his limbs, and giving a great groan as joints cracked and popped pleasantly. That tapered off into almost a low growl before finally going silent as the man sat up and rubbed his sleep crusted eyes.

"… Mornin'." Came the low rumble, and then the man stood and headed into the bathroom. When he did, the last one in the bed sighed and rolled his head to the side, and Reid knew that he had also awoken, and was watching Logan retreat into the bathroom.

"Nmh." Was all he said, before rolling over onto his chest and tugging a pillow closer, burying his face into the thing. Reid grinned at the mess of auburn hair that he was left staring at… at least until his eyes slowly moved down, following the line of the man's spine down his back, and to the soft beginnings of the swell of his buttocks… after that, the bed sheet got in the way.

"Morning, Remy." Reid called, and his grin widened at the muffled reply, which ended up sounding like a slowly, drawn out "… Munchy."

But then Remy lifted his head and they both turned when they heard snarling from in the bathroom, then a bang and more snarls. Reid frowned, and Remy let out a breath in semblance of a laugh, before burying his face back into the pillow and mumbling into it. Reid had no clue what he was saying. The shower started in the bathroom and Reid slowly uncurled, setting his book aside.

"You're not going to lie in bed all day, are you?"

"Soun' good t'me." Was the answer to Reid's question. "Specially if you gon' take off dem clothes an' join me? Have some fun, non?

"And what would you call those five hours last night?!"

"De Pre Game Show, cher!" Remy announced proudly, flopping over onto his back and grinning up at Reid.

A look of amused exasperation crossed Reid's face and he said "You are impossible, Remy LeBeau."

"Say de homme who won't come back t' bed wi' Remy…" Grumbled the elder of the pair, now glaring at Reid. "Why y' up? It's Saturday. Don' gotta be nowhere."

"It's time to get up." Reid said, as if that was the most obvious answer in the world.

"Ain't decent." Remy complained, dragging pillow down to cover the top half of his face, hiding his incredibly distinct eyes from the sunlight.

"And you're one to talk about what's 'decent'? After your suggestion for what we do this morning?"

"Oh, non, cher." Remy argued, and Reid frowned at the sly grin that crossed the Cajun's face. "I was t'inkin' dat would take up de whole day! Not jus' de mornin'!"

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Reid let his face fall into his hand with a groan, and he felt the bed beneath him shake with Remy's suppressed laughter.

"Incorrigible."

"Oui. Mais, y' a'ready knew dat, non?" And he nudged Reid's hip with his foot, laughing when his foot was smacked in response. Then he just started to poke the younger man with his big toe, saying "C'mon now… get undressed… come join Remy. We have a bit of fun b'foreWolvie get outta 'd shower. Nice view, 'dat." Reid grinned and kept smacking away Remy's foot, but the other man was not dissuaded.

"C'mon, now… Remy not feelin' d' love, petit."

"Or maybe," Reid countered, "Remy just doesn't want to admit that he can still 'feel the love' from last night, and CAN'T get up?" Reid felt a wicked grin cross his face as Remy abruptly pushed himself up on his elbow into a near sitting position, shoving the pillow away from his black and red eyes which were now fixing Reid with their burning gaze, shock in them. After Remy blinked at him, absorbing the fact that yes, Reid had actually said that, he allowed a lazy smirk to overcome his features.

"… Touché."

Reid grinned, and doing as he had seen Garcia do on a few occasions, he licked the tip of his index finger and mimed drawing a little tally mark in the air. "One, me." The shower in the bathroom turned off.

"Oh, so dat's how it's gonna be?" Remy asked, sitting up all the way and drawing in his long legs, crossing them at the ankles and bracing his elbows on his knees. "Well alrigh' den... mais we'll jus' see who—"

"SHUT UP!" Came the sudden roar from the bathroom, and another bang. Reid stared at the door, startled, and Remy was just grinning in what could only be construed as delight as low growls continued. And then a moment later, Logan emerged from the bathroom in a towel, scowling and bitching under his breath.

"Bonjour, Logan!" Remy called jovially, and Logan snapped "Shut up, Gumbo," and headed to the closet. Confused, Reid turned and looked at Remy, who was nearly giggling. But his response to Reid's questioning look was a kiss to his cheek and to trot his naked ass into the bathroom himself. And there, compounding Reid's confusion, he blurted "Bonjour, mon ami!" And then the door closed, but Remy continue to prattle on in French. Reid just stared at the door, bewildered. It sounded as though Remy was having a full, one sided conversation. Alone. In the bathroom. Not for the first time, Reid wondered if Remy was genuinely crazy…

He turned to Logan for an explanation. The man was zipping up his jeans and then settled in a chair by his boots, socks in hand. Reid was silently pleased that the man had yet to get on a shirt.

"So, um…" He began, and Logan looked up at him as he tugged on his socks. Reid fixed Logan with a puzzled expression and jabbed a thumb back over his shoulder, towards the bathroom door as the shower turned on. Logan looked at the door and tuned in on Remy's continued rambling, then scowled and let out a low snarl, now jamming his foot into his boot with a force that could almost be considered violent.

"There's this… Damn blue jay." He finally admitted. "That likes to sit on the windowsill and scream its head off whenever anyone is in the bathroom." Reid's eyebrows shot up. "It's damn awkward trying to take a piss with that fuckin' thing chattering away right next to you." Slowly, Reid felt a grin overtake his features and he snickered.

"I see. And you haven't killed it why?"

"… Because the damn Cajun likes the thing!" Logan spat, looking furious. "Named the bastard 'Gerard' and talks to him all the fuckin' time."

Only a moment later, Reid fell apart into hysterical laughter. "Oh my God, you're so CUTE!"

"… what?" Logan asked, caught off guard by this. 'Cute' was not a word he had ever heard used in reference to him.

"You let the bird alone because Remy likes it!"

"… I'm rethinking that decision." Logan growled, and Reid grinned up at him.

"Awwww… no, don't do that."

"I hate that thing!"

"But listen to how happy it makes Remy!" Reid pointed out as the shower turned off and Remy was still talking.

"What the hell does he say to that bird, anyway?" Logan asked, and Reid cocked his head and listened more closely. A grin slowly split his face, and then Remy emerged in a towel, running his hand through his disheveled hair, that he had obviously ruffled over with a towel to start drying it.

"Well?" Logan asked.

"Well what?" Remy blinked, then looked at Reid, who had a devious expression.

"Sounded to me like he was telling Gerard about your uh… performance abilities in bed." Reid choked out, biting back a laugh. Whatever Logan had been expecting, it wasn't that.

"Spencer…" Remy said in a low, drawn out tone. "Ain't polite t' translate private conversations."

"You're an asshole." Logan snorted and Remy just grinned, heading to his bedside table and grabbing the pack of cigarettes. "I am just counting down the weeks until that bird leaves."

"Uh, you know he's gonna come back, right?" Reid asked, and Logan fixed a look of horror on him.

"What?!"

"They remember where the food is. They come back to the source every year as long as it keeps producing."

"Food?"

"You didn't see?" Reid asked.

"Spencer…" Remy called, warningly.

But Reid just grinned and announced "the seed shells on the sill. Remy's been feeding him! And so now the bird knows where to go for food. That's why he's always there. And now he always will be. Not just him, but likely his offspring someday, too!"

Logan's expression turned murderous. "You mean… I'm gonna have to put up with that fuckin' bird every year?! GAMBIT!"

"Spencer, why y' goin' outta y' way to get ol' Remy in trouble?!" The Cajun whined.

"Payback's a bitch."

"Ain't nuthin' t' be paid back for, me!"

"Oh yeah? From the day I met you… shall I start listing?" Reid asked, smugly. Remy said nothing, and Reid grinned, licking his finger and making another tally mark in the air. "Two, me."

"… taisez vous." Remy muttered under his breath, scowling. Logan chuckled, watching as Remy just chuckled under his breath and opened the French doors onto the fifteen inch wide iron grate that served as their balcony, with ivy climbing over the rails. And then, in naught but his towel, he stepped out onto it and lit his cigarette, glancing over the grounds.

"Remy, please get dressed." Reid sighed, shaking his head, and Logan smirked. "This is a school."

"What if Remy don' want to?" The Cajun asked, only to hear a sharp gasp from below, followed by a sudden "Oh God! UHHG!" Starting slightly, Remy blinked and stepped back, looking down. Frowning, he peered down through the iron grate at two kids on the little balcony below, a boy and a girl, about sixteen, staring up at him. Or, more specifically, up his skirts and between his legs. Quirking a brow, he stepped back once more so that he was standing on the carpet, but he was leaning forward to keep staring at the kids.

"I do b'lieve," he said slowly in a low, serious tone, "dat dis side of de hall is for de boys, petit. And dat de girls are on de other side, non? An'… f'give ol' Gambit if he's wrong… but ain't dere rules about uh… crossin' over to t' other side, so t' speak?"

The girl just kept staring up at him, eyes wide, mouth ajar and face red. The boy beside her looked like he had swallowed a lemon, and was averting his gaze. But after a moment, he mumbled "well, you guys don't exactly follow that rule up there, huh?!"

"True 'dat." Remy said with a smirk and a shrug. "But up here, we all be adults. Consentin' adults. Down 'dere, you all be minors. Ain't no underage uh… shenanigans, allowed in 'dis house. So Gambit suggest 'dat your femme der, get back over t' 'er own room, oui? And you two keep 't y'own side of de hall, 'less Gambit report what y' been doin' to de Professor." The kids tensed. "O' Cyclops? O' Storm?" That made them wince, and the girl immediately bolted back inside with a quick "yessir!"

"An' you!" Remy barked at the boy. "Chill d' fuck out an' grow up. Nuthin y' haven't seen before, oui? Ain't like you don't got none. 'Less y' got somethin' y' need t' be tellin' us, homme?" And then Remy grinned as the boy turned red, muttered, and disappeared back inside, slamming the door behind him. Remy let out a wicked chuckle, and just stepped back outside again, raising the cigarette to his lips.

Grinning at the look of horror on Reid's face, Logan called out to Remy "Don't think Jeannie will be too pleased that you just scarred two of the students with your little indecent exposure, there."

"No worries, Wolvie. 'Dem kids'll keep quiet."

"What makes you say that?" Logan asked.

"Mutually assured destruction." Reid said. Logan blinked and looked at him, and Remy turned to face him as well, leaning against the railing of the balcony as he finished his cigarette, the towel sliding a bit lower on his hips.

"What?" Logan asked.

"A case in which both parties are at risk." Reid explained. "If they tell on Remy, they'll have to explain why they were out on the balcony together, when she wasn't allowed in the boy's room at all. They'll get in trouble, too."

"Aren't they worried that Remy will report them?" Logan asked.

"No." Reid said with a grin. "Because if Remy tells on them, they tell on him. If one goes down, they all go down. So out of self preservation, everyone keeps quiet."

"Exactement." Remy nodded with a sly grin. "Our Spence got it."

"Of course…" Reid drawled, an evil gleam in his eye that immediately put Remy on alert, "Logan could always tattle on everyone, and then just sit back and watch the fireworks." Remy's eyes widened in alarm as Logan slowly allowed a feral grin to cross his face.

"H-Hey now!" Remy blurted, fumbling and dropping his cigarette butt, which fell out of sight. "Don't you b' givin' him any ideas! He don' need y' help!"

"Oh, but I like this one." Logan rumbled.

"Especially after the whole thing with Gerard…" Reid continued, grinning.

"SPENCER!" Remy cried, and Logan rose to his feet with a wide, leering grin. Reid licked his finger, and made another tally mark.

"Three, me. Zero, Remy." He announced happily, and Remy leveled a disgusted look on him.

"I'm thinking coffee sounds good!" The Logan announced, looking at Reid. "Scott and Jean should be up by now, so it should be brewing!"

"What?!" Remy blurted, now looking alarmed as Logan headed for the door. "Wait! Wait wait wait!" Reid lept to his feet and scurried after Logan, fighting back his laughter as Remy lunged for a pair of pants, dropping his towel in the process. "Spencer! Logan! C'mon now! Fils de—OW!"

Reid let out an unmanly giggle as Remy loudly stubbed his toe as he hopped around tugging up his pants, and then a grinning Logan grabbed his hand and tugged him down the hall at a run, a desperate Remy giving chase.

"LOGAN! SPENCER! WAIT! MERDE! STOP Y' CONNA-"

"REMY LEBEAU, I HEARD THAT!" Ororo shouted from her room before flinging the door open and stepping out, forcing Remy to skid to a stop to keep from running her down. "This is a SCHOOL!"

"Oh, he's in it, now." Logan chuckled as he and Reid darted down the stairs and towards the kitchen, where curious faces were already appearing in the doorway at the commotion.

"We'll make it up to him later." Reid laughed.

"That we will, darlin'. But for now, let's just enjoy the show."


	2. A Wolverine's Harem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer gives the X-Men a lecture about the ways of the wolverine at the dinner table... Remy takes issue with the word 'harem'...

It was dinner time at the Xavier School for Higher Learning. Everyone was waiting to eat. They were waiting on a few stragglers… a couple of students, two X-Men, and a guest. The latter arrived right on time… Logan and Spencer walked in, grinning, as Remy slouched in behind them, sulking and complaining “What is dis?! Take De Piss Outta Remy Day?!” 

The X-Men and students at the table were grinning. That morning had been a riot, and all at Remy’s expense. Word got around that Remy was in the dog house with Logan over a bird named Gerard that was on their bathroom windowsill, and Ororo was not pleased that Remy had been cursing at the top of his lungs as he ran down the hall in his underwear on a Saturday morning. And THEN, a very mischievous Wolverine had tattled on Remy and a couple of students… Apparently, one of the boys had a GIRL in his room… strictly forbidden for the underage students. But in catching them, Remy had inadvertently, well… exposed himself, as he had only been wearing a towel at the time… and had been standing on an iron grate balcony right over the students. So look up and… well… they saw EVERYTHING.

Remy didn’t give a damn. He had no problem with his own nudity. But of course, as the kids were minors, Scott had hit the ceiling and Remy had spent the day doing yard work… with the students. Spencer (who had been feeling guilty) and Logan (who had been feeling smug), watched Remy work because despite the guilt and the smug, neither could deny that it was hot, watching Remy doing the yard work in nothing but his sneakers, frayed jean shorts, sunglasses, gloves and bandana on his head. The pair had watched from the patio, and occasionally brought Remy something cold to drink (Spencer) or sprayed him down with the hose when he was least expecting (Logan). Needless to say, he got into more trouble with Ororo over his pottymouth.

But now, Remy was done with his chores, showered and dressed in his long pajama pants and a Def Leppard t-shirt, his damp hair still hanging around his shoulders. With a kind smile, Jean met him at the door to the dining room with some Aleve, which Remy nodded and took with a soft “Merci, Jeannie…”

“Sissy.” Logan snorted.

“Be nice.” Spencer scolded, slapping the man on his broad bicep. “He doesn’t have your healing factor, you don’t know what it’s like to be that sore.”

“He don’t know what it’s like to have metal grafted to his bones.”

“Hush.” Spencer said firmly, and the trio sat down at the table, Remy glaring at the snickers. He was in a right foul mood, even though Spencer had promised to make it up to him… Remy was quite ready for revenge, as all of this had been Spencer’s fault in the first place as far as he was concerned…

A moment later, the last students skittered into the room and took their seats, offering sheepish grins at the admonishing looks they got from Jean and Ororo. Fresh from the shower, young Michael, Noah and Adam had helped Remy with his yard work at the end of the day, as Michael practically idolized the trouble making Cajun. Michael had a power that had been affectionately called “Monkey See, Monkey Do”… he could watch and read the movement of another, and mimic it perfectly. As such, he trained twice a week with Gambit, who was very acrobatic in his fighting style.

Dinner was served, and everyone tucked in, Logan and Remy with particular gusto. Remy had missed lunch, and so nearly inhaled his peas, potatoes and pork chops, and was the first to go back for seconds, followed closely by Logan.

Spencer, who was only halfway done with his FIRST servings, just stared at them in disgust. “You two are beyond horrific at the table!” He blurted, finally. Remy and Logan paused and looked up at him, then just went back to eating. Spencer leaned forwards to look around Remy at Logan. “At least REMY has an excuse today. Just because you’re called Wolverine, it doesn’t mean you have to EAT like one!”

“… You ever actually seen a wolverine eat?” Logan grunted.

“… I… well, no…”

“Then shut yer yap, Nightlight.” Logan snorted, and Spencer made a face at the nickname.

“Wait…” Noah interrupted. “The wolverine is a real thing?”

“Yep.” Logan grunted around his porkchop.

“Wow, really?” Adam blurted. “I thought he just made up the name and liked how it sounded!”

Logan gave Adam a look. “Do I look like the kinda guy that makes up stupid names for himself?”

“Do you really want us to answer that?” Michael asked, and Logan glared while Remy grinned.

“Don’t start, kid.” Logan warned.

“… So… what IS a wolverine?” Seth asked, pushing his peas around his plate until Ororo told him to quit playing and eat them.

“A weasel.” Spencer announced. There was a moment of silence, and then the room erupted into laughter. Logan growled.

“Seriously?!” Jubilee giggled.

“The wolverine is the largest weasel in the world.” Spencer nodded. “They can get up to sixty pounds and are incredibly powerful predators, capable to bringing down prey much larger than themselves.” Everyone was eyeing Logan thoughtfully, now. But Spence wasn’t done. “The wolverine is known for being stubborn, determined and very clever, with nasty claws and a nasty attitude. They can be extremely vicious and destructive and are NOT easily intimidated.”

“Well, that’s him alrigh’…” Rogue grinned, and there was a chorus of agreement. 

And yet, even as Logan was starting to look somewhat mollified, Spencer kept going… “They’re solitary by nature and not all males will even take a mate. Those that do will take a harem of two to three females that live apart, and he alternates visiting them each individually. The male will remain devoted to his harem for life, and will even help to raise his offspring. In fact, it’s not uncommon for the kits to stay with their father for a period of time after they leave their mother at about six months old. The males are very devoted mates and fathers.”

“So… the male wolverine takes care of teenagers, huh?” Jubilee asked with a sly grin, and Logan just snorted, making everyone laugh again. Once it died down, Scott smirked.

“So… the Wolverine keeps a harem, huh?”

Remy choked. Loudly. He coughed a few times to clear his throat and then declared angrily, “Oh, hell non! De Gambit ain’t no HAREM!” Everyone at the table was silent, but they were all obviously trying not to laugh… But Logan was grinning.

“Heh… Gonna have you in poofy pants and a veil in no time, Cajun.”

And the explosion of laughter was loud enough to make Logan, Kurt and Hank cringe. Remy snarled and glared at Spencer. “Look what y’ started, homme! Y’ done went an’ gave Logan ideas! Merde!”

“Remy…” Ororo warned.

Spencer shrugged. “Well… it does kind of fit… You… me… him.”

“Non! Absolutely NOT!!! Remy ain’t no femme!”

“I never said you were!”

“An’ he ain’t no harem, neither!” Remy howled, then snapped his head around to glare at Logan, who was chuckling in delight. “Oh, screw you… couillon…” He snapped, stabbing viciously at a roasted potato wedge on his plate.

“Remy!” Ororo snapped.

“Wow… insecure much?” Spencer asked, a mischievous grin on his face. Now Remy was glaring at Spencer, while Logan let out a loud guffaw, slapping his hand on the table and making everyone’s plates jump.

“… Y’ lil’ smart ass!” Remy cried, his hand shouting out to grab Spencer, who squealed and recoiled, losing his balance and toppling out of his chair. Trying to save himself, he grabbed Remy’s shirt, and with a yelp, Remy went down with him. Now the table just stared at Logan, who was grinning and looking down at the pair who were scuffling like five year olds. Then he just cut into his pork chop and kept eating.

Scott sighed and rubbed his forehead while Ororo and Jean looked annoyed.

“Now really… we are at the dinner table!” Hank chided to the empty places where Spencer and Remy had been sitting moments ago. Kurt and Rogue were snickering.

A moment later, Remy popped up over the table edge and reached out, plunging his fingers into Logan’s water glass, making the feral scowl in annoyance, and scooped out a handful of ice before ducking under the table once more, grinning deviously. Then Spencer let out an ear splitting shriek.

“What is going on in here?!” All eyes turned as Professor Xavier came into the dining room, staring. Spencer was on his back on the floor with Remy sitting on his thighs… with his hand down Spencer’s pants. The pair stared at the Professor like kids who had been caught with their hand in the cookie jar. Remy quickly removed his hand from said “cookie jar”. Spencer immediately thrust his hand down his pants, fished out most of the ice and, tugging Remy’s pajamas bottoms, dropped the ice into the Cajun’s pants. Xavier watched Remy shoot into the air with a high pitched “Sainte Mere de Dieu!” and begin to hop and dance around the room, ice falling out of his pant legs… the dining X-Men and students were more than a bit amused.

“… Gambit.” Xavier said in a less-than-pleased tone, and Remy went still.

“Uh… Oui?”

“This is hardly what I would consider as setting a good example for the children…”

“Oui, Professor…” Remy mumbled. The room was silent for a moment, but all eyes turned when Logan set his silverware down with a sudden CLANK, and rose from his seat.

“Sorry, Chuck.” He sighed, and seized both Remy and Spencer by the back of their shirt collars, and to the amusement of their audience, proceeded to drag them from the room, saying “I’ll try to keep my harem’s behavior under control.”

“… Harem?” Xavier blurted, caught off guard by this. Logan and Spencer both gave a wicked chuckle, and Remy’s voice drifted back to the dining room, “Oh, fuck you bot’…”

“That’s the idea, Cajun!”

“… Merde.”

“Mon Dieu!”

“Shut up, Spencer!”

And Logan just laughed…


	3. Quote Wars

Logan was meditating. On the floor, legs crossed, sitting up straight, eyes closed… inhale. Hold. Exhale. Pause. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Pause. Inhale… his broad, powerful chest swelled enormously. And then it collapsed, his well muscles stomach pulling in and tightening to fully complete the emptying of air from his lungs. The incense was soothing, as were the sounds that came from his little stereo. Wind chimes, trickling water, rustling leaves… the sounds of a tranquil Japanese garden. His windows were all open, allowing the breeze to sweep through his room.

It was peaceful. Soothing… just what the Wolverine needed.

When suddenly—

SLAM!

The door was FLUNG open. Were Logan a cat, he would be puffed up beyond belief in that moment as his eyes snapped open and stared at the wall, nostrils flaring as he fought not to bare his teeth.

“The one who adapts his policy to the times prospers, and likewise that the one whose policy clashes with the demands of the times does not.” Spencer was saying as he and Remy stepped into the room. Logan wanted to groan. Apparently, his boys were home from their shopping trip early… great. He closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, trying to soothe his hackles.

“Ah. Machiavelli.” Remy identified, and a smirk crossed his face. He closed the door and nodded. “Touche.” Then he grinned at the surprised look on Spencer’s face. “What? Y’ t’ink you be de only one dat reads?” He cocked his head, put his hands on his hips and then said, “Pfft! ‘Of mankind we may say in general dey are fickle, hypocritical, and greedy o’ gain’.”

“… Machiavelli.” Spencer grinned. “Alright. I admit it. You’ve impressed me.”

“Why should dat impress y’?” Remy asked, setting his bags down. Sighing in slight aggravation, Logan opened one eye, wondering if Remy had come home with a new wardrobe. But no… to his surprise, it looked like Spencer and Remy had both returned with… a lot of books. And as Remy was just pointing out, “in case y’ hadn’t noticed, petit, Remy done bought hi’self a good number o’ books, too.”

“Hm.” Was all Spencer said, a little smile on his face. Remy’s eyes widened and he blinked a few times, then smirked and crossed his arms.

“Oh. So dat’s how it’s gon’ be, huh? Well alrigh’ den...” Then he cocked his head and said “if y’ will pardon my candor, I might remark dat you are somet’in’ of an ass...” 

Logan’s eyes snapped open at this, even as Reid whirled, frowning at Remy. After a moment, his eyes widened and a bemuse smile over took his face. “Are you quoting ‘Tarzan of the Apes’ at me, now?!” He asked, and Remy just grinned and shrugged. Spencer turned to face him fully. “Alright. ‘For myself, I always assume that a lion is ferocious, and so I am never caught off my guard’.”

Remy’s grin widened and his eyes sparkled in delight. “Oh, it’s on, now, cher. ‘De books dat de worl’ calls immoral are books dat show de world its own shame’.”

“The Picture of Dorian Gray, by Oscar Wilde.” Reid identified, and Remy grinned and nodded.

“One o’ Remy’s favorites!”

“Hmm… ‘I don't want to be at the mercy of my emotions. I want to use them, to enjoy them, and to dominate them’.”

“… Y’ tryin t’ tell Remy somet’in, Nightlight?”

“Why ever would you get that idea?” Spencer asked, all innocence. Remy chortled, clearly enjoying himself as he and Spencer unpacked their newly purchased books.

“Enough o’ dat… bring it on. It be y’ turn.”

Logan wanted to groan… great… the pair were getting into a Quotes War… He was TRYING to MEDITATE God Dammit!!!

Spencer fired off his own quote. ““Move swift as the Wind and closely-formed as the Wood. Attack like the Fire and be still as the Mountain.”

“Y’ tellin’ Remy t’ be a man?”

“… What?” Spencer asked, baffled.

“Y’know! De song!”

“Song?”

“Aw, y’know! Uh, Y’ must be swift as de coursin’ river; wit’ all de force of a great typhoon; wit’ all de strength of de ragin’ fire; mysterious as de dark side o’ de moon.”

Spencer just stared, looking beyond confused. Remy burst out laughing. “I jus’ messin’ wit’ y’, Nightlight. It’s Disney.”

“Disney…” Spencer deadpanned.

“Oui. Now, as f’ what YOU said… Sun Tzu’s De Art of War. ‘Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt’.”

“Hm…” Spencer frowned, crossing his arms over his chest and eyeing Remy, as though deciding that the Cajun just may be a worthy adversary… and he was thrilled. He turned to face Remy fully, both of them ignoring Logan sitting on the floor between them, glaring at the wall and wondering why the fuck they had come to HIS room.

“Arousing from the most profound of slumbers, we break the gossamer web of some dream. Yet in a second afterward, (so frail may that web have been) we remember not that we have dreamed.”

“De Pit and de Pendulum… Edgar Allen Poe.” Remy remarked. “"And den dere stole into my fancy, like a rich musical note, de t’ought of what sweet rest dere must be in de grave.”

Spencer smiled and nodded.

“But de stars,” Remy offered now, “dat marked our startin’ fall away. We must go deeper into greater pain, for it is not permitted dat we stay.”

Spencer smiled. “Dante Alighieri’s ‘The Divine Comedy’… ‘Inferno’.” He announced. “One ought to be afraid of nothing other then the things possessed of power to do us harm, but things innocuous need not be feared.” Remy smiled and removed his sunglasses, setting them aside before he let his hair out of its ponytail, all while waiting for Spencer to issue the next challenge. 

“If ever they remembered their life in this world it was as one remembers a dream.” Spencer finally said. Remy frowned and cocked his head, thoughtfully.

“Hmmm… Remy know dat…” And then he grinned. “De Lion, de Witch, and de Wardrobe.” And with a delighted smile, he spread his arms and loudly declared, “If dere’s anyone who can appear b’fore Aslan wit’out deir knees knockin’, dey’re eit’er braver dan most, or else jus’ silly!” Spencer grinned at that, before laughing happily when Remy added “Kinda like de Wolverine, non?” And he ruffled Logan’s hair as he walked by, blatantly ignoring the feral’s low, warning growl of irritation.

Now in the middle of the room, between Logan and the bed, Remy stood silent for a moment, then smiled and spoke. “De world is indeed full of peril and in it dere are many dark places.” 

Spencer stared at him, frowning slightly. Remy waited, but his smile slowly widened. He checked his watch. “… Well?”

“… The Lord of the Rings.” Spencer finally commented. 

“Hn.” Was Remy’s affirmative answer.

Smirking, Spencer began to move towards Remy, stepping around Logan and the he and Remy were chest to chest, eye to eye. “… Moonlight drowns out all but the brightest stars…” He offered, then stepped back. Remy was looking delighted. Spencer now offered his challenge. “Have more than you show, speak less than you know.”

That wiped the smirk right off of Remy’s face. His eyes widened, and Spencer was suddenly looking very smug. Remy scowled and lifted a lightly curled fist, pressing the length of the first joint of his index finger to his lips as he began to pace. Looking more and more pleased, Spencer backed away and then sat himself on the edge of the bed.

“Well?”

“Remy t’inkin’!” The Cajun grumbled, then stopped midstep and snapped his fingers. “Shakespeare! King Lear, if Remy ain’t mistaken!” He looked at Spencer, and grinned when he saw the younger man pout. “Hah! Remy be right! ‘Not’in’ will come o’ not’in. Speak again’…” The last two worked were spoken as a taunting challenge. Spencer’s eyes flashed, though the corners of his lips did quirk up. Neither noticed Logan break his pose and put his head into his hands in frustration.

“Listen to them, the children of the night. What music they make.” Spencer purred, his eyes sliding half closed as he gazed at Remy. The thief paused, and then his eyes flashed and a more… sensual grin took over his devilishly handsome features.

“Bram Stoker’s ‘DRACULA’.” He answered, his own tone smooth as velvet. Logan’s eyes opened as he suddenly inhaled the delicious scent of pheromones through the incense. “I am longin’ t’ be wit’ you, and by de sea, where we can talk toget’er freely and build our castles in de air.” Remy breathed, beginning to stalk towards Spencer, his movements blatantly sexual. He removed his long coat and let it fall to the floor as he went, before moving his fingers to start pulling his shirt out of his jeans where he had tucked it in. “If variety is sought in all de arts an’ amusements, such as archery an’ ot’ers, how much more should it be sought after in de art of love.”

Spencer blinked in thought, and then his eyes widened and he turned red. “Did… Did you REALLY just quote the… the…”

“G’on, cher… say it.”

“The… Kama Sutra?!” Reid squeaked. With a smoky laugh, Remy slowly peeled off his shirt.

“… Oui.”

“Oh, Jesus…” Logan huffed under his breath, running his hands through his hair. Yeah… meditation was NOT happening. Behind him, Remy was stalking closer to Spencer, unbuckling his belt as he went. Spencer was averting his eyes, nervously, and he swallowed.

“Uh… ‘Whatever things may be done by one of the lovers to the other, the same should be returned by the other’…” Spencer offered. Remy grinned and laughed lightly. 

“If dat be de case, cher, shouldn’t y’ be strippin’ fo’ Remy like he be strippin’ fo’ you?”

Spencer choked, and Logan twisted around to look at the pair over his shoulder… ridiculous. Both of them.

Still blushing, Spencer spoke out softly, “My beloved is like a gazelle or a young stag. Look! There he stands behind our wall, gazing through the windows, peering through the lattice.”

Remy let out a soft moan, falling to his knees on the bed, straddling Spencer’s lap. “… Song of Solomon…” He murmured. “De Bible’s book o’ love…” He lifted his hands, resting them on Spencer’s cheeks. Their lips almost brushing, he breathed, “Like an apple tree among de trees of de forest is my beloved among de young men. I delight to sit in his shade, an’ his fruit is sweet to my taste…”

Spencer shivered and moaned then, as he was kissed.

Slowly, Logan turned back to face forwards again, staring at the wall in disbelief before he let his head drop, his forehead landing firmly in the palm of his hand, braced by his elbow on his knee.

Smiling down at Spencer, Remy said “As if y’ were on fire wit’in. De moon lives in de linin’ of y’ skin.”

Blushing, Spencer responded, “Pablo Naruda. ‘But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me’.”

“Well… o’ course y’ love ‘em fo’ dat.” Remy chuckled, flopping onto the bed and toeing off his boots, then wiggling his toes and swinging his foot into Spencer’s face saying “mais let’s face it… Remy’s feet may not be as bad as Wolvie’s, but dey STILL stink!”

Spencer squealed and leaned back, shoving Remy’s feet away even as Logan grumbled and rolled his eyes… Though he was impressed at how efficiently Remy had just insulted him and killed the mood with Spencer all in one go… talk about two birds, one stone.

Chuckling, Remy grinned up at Spencer as Spencer glared at him and said, “Thou has indeed fulfilled the dream. Thus indeed do we reward those who do good.”

Remy blinked slowly, cocking his head. “… Y’ quotin’ de Bible again, cher? C’mon now… no repeats.” Spencer stared at him for a moment, and then slowly grinned.

“I win.”

“… huh?”

“That wasn’t the Bible.”

“… It wasn’t?!”

“It was the Quran.” Spencer told him, and Remy made a face.

“Alrigh’, alrigh’… t’ink we knew from de start dat Remy was gonna lose. Ain’t no way dis Cajun read as much as y’, Nightlight. Can’t remember every’tin’, either.”

“I know.” Spencer said with a grin. “That’s why I’m impressed.” Remy looked startled at that, but then grinned. “You did a hell of a lot better than most.”

“It was fun.” Remy admitted, flopping back on the bed. “Even t’ough y’ took it easy on po’ Remy.”

“Until you stuck your feet in my face, yes.” Spencer snorted, and Remy chuckled again.

“Awww… y’ know y’ love me.”

“Moments like that, I question why.” Spencer drawled, and Remy just grinned.

Spencer smiled down at him for a while, and then suddenly said, “You know that place between sleep and awake, where you still remember dreaming?” 

“Ahh… mais oui…” Remy moaned in nostalgic delight, reaching out and caressing Spencer’s cheek with his hand, eyes shining in joy and ardor. “Dat’s where I’ll always love you… Dat’s where I’ll be waitin’.” And the pair leaned in, grinning, and rested their foreheads together before sharing a kiss.

“I like that one.” Came the soft announcement, and the pair broke their kiss and turned, looking at Logan in mild surprise. The Feral was staring at them as he slowly rose to his feet and strode over, sliding onto the edge of the bed. “What’s that one from?” He asked, instinctively opening his arms as the two young men moved in close, on either side of him as Remy answered, “Peter Pan, cher. Ah, dieu… loved dat one, me.”

“Me too.” Spencer hummed as they fell back to rest on the bed. Logan sighed in contentment as he wrapped his arms around his boys, feeling them both snuggle in close against him. “One of my all time favorites.”

“Moi aussi…” Remy sighed, dreamily. And then there was an… expectant silence. After a moment, Logan grumbled and then said “this NEVER leaves the room…”

“You too, Logan?” Remy asked, grinning.

“… Yeah.” Logan breathed, his answer barely audible. But the man felt a smile tug at his lips as he was rewarded with happy little sounds and assurances that his confession would be kept in confidence, and then little nuzzles and kisses to his collar bones, neck and jaw, even as legs entwined, arms were draped over his chest and stomach, and a set of fingers gently traced the contours of his face before lightly scratching at his sideburns and then carding through his hair. 

The feral was unable to hold back a low, pleased rumble… the Wolverine’s version of a purr. Hell, it never failed to amaze Logan how the beast within him became as docile as a kitten in moments like this, when he was holding his boys close and feeling the love emanating from them… between Remy’s empathy and Spencer’s telepathy, it was the most exquisite thing in the world… even the violent Wolverine couldn’t help but go still and savor the moments like this… they were to be cherished, just as the boys in his arms were to be cherished…

“Feelin’ rather snuggly, aren’tcha?” Logan murmured, and grinned at the happy, wordless sounds affirming that yes, they were… They cuddled in as close as they could be, Spencer and Remy each nuzzling their heads under Logan’s chin and staring at one another with soft smiles on their faces. They said nothing, they just sent each other emotions through Remy, and little thoughts through Spencer… simple, little thoughts… words… gestures… 

A vision flashing briefly in their minds of Remy’s eyes, and the word ‘bewitching, captivating, flawless’… a quick flash of Spencer bent over a book, tucking his hair back behind his ear… ‘enchanting, charming, brilliant ’. Logan, oblivious to the world as he moved through a kata, his skin glistening with a sheen of sweat… ‘commanding, intense, dominant’. 

Remy playing basketball with the kids… ‘selfless, delightful, carefree’. Spencer, smiling and ducking his head as a blush crossed his cheeks, ‘endearing, precious, loveable’. Logan again… broad chest and muscled arms… ‘security, shelter, sanctuary’.

Remy, twisting his body and stretching up his arms, allowing his head to fall back as he danced to music that was just out of reach… ‘graceful, elegant, sensual’… Spencer’s eyes swirling with color… ‘breathtaking, exceptional, cherished’… a quick vision of Remy’s long fingers caressing Logan’s hand, resting on his chest, between the knuckles where his claws were… ‘gentle… soothing… wholly, utterly, trusted…’

Logan stared at the ceiling and swallowed the thick lump in his throat as tears prickled at his eyes.

“Aw... t’ink we made Wolvie all emotional, cher.” Remy snickered.

“Shaddup.” Logan growled. Spencer, in the mean time, had actually hidden his face in Logan’s chest. Remy blinked. 

“Spencer? You blushin’?! Aw… you too, non?” Remy chuckled. “Why d’you two ‘ave so much trouble understandin’ how much y’ be loved?! Ah, Dieu…” He leaned over and gently kissed the top of Spencer’s head, and then Logan’s forehead. A moment later, and Spencer murmured “pot calling the kettle black.” Logan turned and looked at Remy, who was staring at Spencer in shock. After a moment, Remy huffed and let his head drop to Logan’s chest again.

“Touche…” He murmured, snuggling in close again, entwining his fingers with Spencer as he kissed Logan’s throat, gently. “Mon Dieu… what a trio we make, non?” Logan grunted in assent. 

After a long stretch of silence, the feral finally spoke.

“Say that last one again?”

“You know that place between sleep and awake,” Spencer whispered, “where you still remember dreaming?”

“… That’s where I’ll always love you.” Logan tentatively followed up. He felt Remy kiss his throat again.

“Dat’s where I’ll be waitin’…”


	4. An Unwanted Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A chance meeting provides Remy with answers to some of the questions of his past... but these were answers he really didn't want...

A young man strode down the streets of New York, not noticing all the looks he was getting. Looks of appraisal, and then appreciation… Looks from a plethora of women, and men as well… Some admiring, and some aggravated that the women they were with had openly allowed their gazes to stray from their men…

He was a tall and slender creature, with a splendidly delicious muscle structure layered on long, elegant bones, all in a sheathe of lightly tanned skin that many onlookers fantasized about running their hands over… The long legs were encased in dark blue jeans that were artfully faded in some places, and that hugged the body like a second skin. They disappeared into tall black leather steel-toed biker boots that ended just below the knee and were lined with straps and buckles. The man wore two belts… one cinched tightly around a skinny waist, and the other, larger studded belt hanging loosely around his hips, that moved with a delightful sway as he walked. A chain dangled from where it was clipped onto one of the belt loops of his jeans and draped across his hip before disappearing into the pocket of his jeans. He wore a black skintight v-neck shirt that more than showed off his chest and abs, and a brown leather jacket that fell to mid thigh.

There was a simple silver chain around his neck, a gold stud in each ear and a little smirk on his lips as he swaggered down the street. His rust colored hair fell long, to his shoulder blades, and was neatly pulled back into a ponytail at the base of his neck, though several locks of hair tumbled into his face in almost a teasing rebellion, making him that much more tempting. He had stubble on his chin and up his jawline and hid his eyes behind dark, designer shades. But his gaze was obviously focused on the phone in his fingerless-gloved hand, while the other clutched at a couple of shopping bags.

Even with his eyes cast downwards, Remy LeBeau easily navigated the crowds of New York City, crossing the street with the herd as the lights changed. He was supposed to be meeting Kitty, Jubilee, Ororo, Jean, Rogue and Betsy for lunch. They had come to the city together to do some shopping, and split up to shop for themselves. After lunch, they were going to shop together. Jean needed to get a few things for Scott, and there were a couple of birthdays coming up that they needed to shop for, too.

Right now, all Remy was thinking about was that he was hungry and he wished the girls would pick a place to meet for lunch, and that he couldn’t wait to get him and give Logan the little gift he’d purchased for him. It was a new aftershave scent that that turned Remy’s head the moment he caught a whiff, his mind immediately thinking of Logan… He knew that the gruff, feral man wasn’t into scents, but when he realized just how attractive Remy found it on him, he would wear it. The man had been known to use scents to tease Remy when he was in the mood. Remy would just be sitting in the kitchen, chatting with the others, and Logan would walk in, grab a beer and leave… and then the scent of his aftershave would waft over Remy, making the Cajun trail off midsentence. Logan usually made it halfway up the stairs before he would hear Remy chasing after him…

The problem was, some of the others had caught onto the pattern… Logan wore a particular scent and Remy would suddenly excuse himself and the two wouldn’t be seen for a while… So Remy had learned to throw them off by purchasing new scents he would find enticing on Logan, so that Logan had a variety to choose from. What Remy HADN’T told Logan was that he had already picked up on Logan’s little secret pattern… Remy was starting to piece together that each scent would let him know just what kind of a mood Logan was in, and what he was in the mood for… Remy loved it. He had told Spencer about it, too. Spencer found it both very strange, and very funny. Remy had promised to teach him what each scent meant when he next came to visit. But Remy had gotten impatient. Spencer didn’t get to visit much, and Remy was just too delighted by his discovery. So he had started sending Spencer letters. He would write the name of the scent, and then describe what he had learned it meant… then he would spray the scent on the paper, and mail it to Spencer. When Spencer opened the envelope and pulled out the paper, he would wave it around and then sit back and inhale the scent for a while, committing it to memory, before he would read what Remy had to say about it, and then call the Cajun and discuss it in more depth. Neither had told Logan… they were having too much fun with their little game.

Remy was snapped out of his thoughts by a sudden scream of “STOP!!! HE STOLE MY PURSE!!!” Remy’s immediate thought was “Pfft… Amateur.” But then he saw the victimized woman… A pretty young brunette in a pale blue blouse and kakhi capris… with braces on her legs and forearm crutches… And then the anger rose… “Vultures.” Remy hissed, watching three young men running in his direction. They were tossing the purse back and forth to each other through the crowd to keep confusion high and attentions constantly shifting. Remy stopped and waited, and then, sure enough, the purse was sailing through the air. His move almost too fast to be seen, he thrust his fist into the air and caught the strap.

“… Fuck! What the hell?!” Blurted the boy whose hands had been outstretched to catch the purse. The crowd backed away, and soon Remy stood on an open area of the sidewalk with the three teenagers around him, just gawking. Remy ignored them and walked over to the edge of the crowd, where the woman was now standing, looking amazed and relieved. He handed her the purse.

“Who the hell you think you are?!” He heard one of the young men behind him snap. A moment later, Remy removed his sunglasses, ignored the several gasps around him, and set his shopping bags down. Then he turned.

“T’ink de same questions begs answerin’ from you, homme. Do b’lieve dat you be de one dat jus’ broke de law, non?” He raised his shields as he felt the shock sweep through the crowd that was watching, and inwardly, he scowled… a whole crowd of people and he had been the only one to raise a hand and help. No one wanted to get involved. Remy suddenly found a scene from the movie “The Bookdock Saints” in his mind… when the main characters were first seen in their church, and the words of the priest as they left the church… ‘Now, we must all fear evil men. But there is another kind of evil which we must fear most. And that is the indifference of good men.’

Remy glanced around at the crowd in disdain. For a moment, he met the gaze of an older woman and her husband. Both of them froze, eyes widening when they saw his eyes. The woman actually let out a small cry and her hands flew to her face. Remy sighed inwardly, almost waiting for her to invoke the name of God. He turned back to the three teenagers, who were looking very torn about running, or attacking. Remy decided to make it easier for them to decide.

“Y’ got two choices here, mes amis.” He said, fishing out a deck of cards and beginning to shuffle them with a practiced hand. “Y’ can either do de right t’ing, turn y’selves in an’ do some community service b’fore turnin’ y’ lives aroun’ and b’comin’ respectful, productive members o’ society… o’ y’ can run like hell… keep victimizin’ people, an’ wonderin’ when de hell dis here Cajun’s gonna show up outta de shadows and drag y’ back in… never t’ be seen again...” He gave them a rather evil looking grin. The boys looked around at each other. The oldest puffed out his chest and stepped forward, full of bravado to cover his nerves that Remy could plainly feel.

“Or I just kill you, man…”

“Y’ really wanna try dat, homme?” Remy asked, allowing his eyes to glow as he lifted a three of hearts. The card was glowing bright pink. The teenager advanced, trying to put on a tough guy act. Remy flicked his fingers and the card landed at his feet and—

PAF!!!

“SHIT!” The guy yelped, jumping back at the small explosion, Now he was looking at Remy, alarmed.

“Y’ got t’ree seconds, mon ami! An’ dere be a squad car jus’ down de block y’ can go runnin’ to. Make y’ choice… jus’ be prepared t’ live wit’ it!” And he raised his arms out to the side, fanning the cards open in each hand, as they all began to glow. Then, grinning, he took a step forwards.

With alarmed shouts, the boys were falling over themselves, turning tail and running like hell. The crowd watched them go, then all turned to stare at Remy. 

“Dat’s what I t’ought.” He chuckled, withdrawing his charge from the cards and slipping them back into his pocket before turning and looking at the woman on crutches. “Y’ ain’t hurt, mademoiselle?” He asked reaching out and laying his hand on her lower arm. She stared up into his eyes.

“No… You… you aren’t going to hurt them, are you? Drag them… into the shadows?” 

The whole crowd waited breathlessly for the answer. What they got was the young man throwing his head back and letting out a rich laugh, filled with delight and bringing smiles to many faces as Remy let his Charm work on the crowd around him, to keep them calm at the presence of the mutant in their midst.

“Oh, non, cher! Can’t do dat, me. Dat be what y’ call a bluff. But hey… dey didn’t know dat. Jus’figured dat if I uh… put de fear o’ God into dem, maybe dey shape up an’ play it straight from now on, non?” And he grinned and shrugged. The woman blinked in surprise, and then smiled. Laughter swept through the crowd and Remy sighed inwardly in relief. Worked like a charm… pun intended. He pat the woman on the arm, smiled and nodded, then gathered his shopping bags and went on his way, slipping his sunglasses onto his face.

Two blocks down, and his smile had faced, replaced by a frown… He was being followed. He could feel the emotions of the older couple who had reacted so viscerally to his eyes… He sighed, and took a turn into an alley. When the couple reached it, the woman gasped.

“He’s gone!” She cried.

“He can’t be!” The man blurted, and the couple hurried into the alley. Halfway down was a chain link fence with barbed wire on top. “He must have gone in one of the buildings…” The man said, and the couple turned, only to gasp and recoil in alarm. Remy stood in the alley before them, between them and the street, his eyes on clear display and blazing.

“O’ maybe…” He drawled in a low, dangerous tone, “He wants t’ know why y’ be followin’ him…”

The couple glanced at each other, and then the woman said, her voice shaking, “We… we have to… know something.”

“An’ what dat be?”

“… How old are you?” 

She watched as the man’s eyes widened slightly, and for a moment, he couldn’t hide his surprise at that question.

“Excusez-moi?” He asked, genuine confusion in his tone.

“I know it’s strange! But… please!” 

The man eyed her. “Uh… ‘bout twenty four… I t’ink…”

“You think?” The man asked.

“Might be odd… but don’t really know fo’ sure, me.”

The woman and her husband shared a strange glance.

“Why?” Remy asked. 

After a moment, the woman swallowed and, trembling, she said, “Were you… adopted?”

“… How d’you know dat?!” Remy demanded, now very wary. His eyes darted around and he reached out with his empathy, trying to sense a possible ambush. But all he got was the building, overpowering emotions of the older couple. The woman had a hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes. Remy eyed her. She just shook her head. 

The man took a deep breath, and said “Your eyes… we…” He paused, swallowed and said, “we could never forget them. A little under twenty five years ago, we… had a son. With eyes like yours. We… we were young, and scared and we ran away. And we left him… the day he was born.”

Remy felt like he had punched in the gut. He lost his breath, and the world seemed to spin.

“Mon Dieu… Merde… merde…” He gasped. His body flashed hot, and then cold and back to hot again. He bent over, bracing his hands on his knees, feeling like he was going to be sick. “Dieu… Cela ne peut pas se produire…” He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to make himself breathe…

It took a moment to feel the vibration in his pocket, and the ringing of his phone. He forced himself upright and pulled out his phone with shaky hands. The couple watched him answer.

“Oui.” He breathed. “… Non… everyt’ing be fine. Not gon’ meet ya fo’ lunch. Y’ on y’ own. Find my own way back, me. Non. Just gotta take care o’ somet’in’.” And he hung up on the female voice, and turned off his phone. Then, he turned and looked at the couple, something akin to fear in his eyes.

“I think,” the man said, “we should go somewhere and… talk.”

Remy stood there for a long few moments, then nodded mutely.

Fifteen minutes later found the three sitting at a table in the corner of a little French bistro. While most people had wanted tables by the window, Remy had slipped the hostess a little incentive to get them the most private table in the place, and then ordered a bottle of wine. Now, he sat across from the older couple, staring into his wine glass.

The three of them had so much in their minds, they couldn’t manage to pin down a single thought… they couldn’t figure out what to say. It was the older man who finally spoke up.

“I’m Glen Campbell. This is my wife, Deborah.” He said, and Deborah lifted her eyes to look at Remy, who was wearing his sunglasses again. She slowly reached out for his hand, resting on the table. As soon as her fingers touched him, however, he pulled his hand away.

“… Remy.” He said, simply.

“Is that short for something?” Deborah asked.

“Non… just what I was called.” They were silent for another moment. Remy drained his wine glass, seized the bottle and refilled it. “… Still not sure whet’er to b’lieve y’ or not… so… what happened?”

The couple looked at each other, and Glen sighed. “We had been married for a couple of years. Tried to have kids, but it was a while before we… got pregnant.”

“The pregnancy wasn’t easy, either.” Deborah admitted. “There were a few times we thought we had… lost the baby. But we didn’t.”

“We lived in Navasota. Texas.” Glen told him. “And were planning a move to Florida. I had been given a job offer. Our belongings had been shipped and we were staying with family for the last week before we… made the move ourselves. We hoped to be settled in Florida by the time you… uh… by the time the baby was born.” He noticed the flinch on Remy when he said ‘you’. “But the baby had other plans. Deb went into premature labor in Navasota.”

“The baby was born healthy.” Deb continued. “Labor was normal. But the staff was acting odd. We were new parents. We were elated but scared. Especially with how they were acting. They wouldn’t tell us what was going on. It was like they were afraid to go near the baby. And then he opened his eyes and… we saw why.”

“An’… his eyes?”

“Red and black.” Deb nodded. “Like yours.”

“You were religious, non?”

“… Yes.” Glen nodded. “We are. And… we also were not very… accepting towards the idea of… mutants.”

“We panicked.” Deb admitted, and she bowed her head. She was shaking. “We snuck out of the hospital with the baby, and got in the car and… just started to drive. We left town and headed for Florida. Didn’t tell a soul. We just… ran.”

“We made the decision as we drove.” Glen said then, his shoulders drooping as he lowered his gaze to the tabletop. “We just couldn’t do it. The baby frightened us. We were new parents, moving to a new city, a new state… new job, new house, new friends. Starting over. But suddenly, we had a baby that was… not normal. We stopped in New Orleans. And we… Left the baby at a hospital. Slipped into the Emergency Room, tucked him into a corner and then snuck out. And then we drove for Florida and…”

“An’ started a whole new life.” Remy finished for them, bitterness in his tone. “Had a new family, too?” He couldn’t help but ask… his heart pounded at the idea that he might have brothers and sisters… despite his not wanting to believe this couple, he could feel it… they were telling the truth.

“Not exactly.” Deb said, and Remy glanced at her. “We… we tried for more children. But getting pregnant didn’t get easier. When I finally did, I miscarried. I had to have surgery and at the end of it, well… I… couldn’t get pregnant again.”

“That’s when we… REALLY started to regret what we had done.” Glen admitted. “When we were honest about being guilty.”

“I was heartbroken that I wouldn’t have a child of my own.” Deb explained. “But I kept thinking… I DID have a child. But I had willingly given him up. I had… thrown away my only chance to…” She trailed off then, tears flooding down her face. Remy narrowed his eyes. He was finding it hard to scrape up any pity.

“We ended up adopting.” Glen sighed. “Two boys and a girl. The youngest is in college now. The oldest is married and has a toddler, with another one on the way.”

“… Do you have children, Remy?” Deb asked.

“… non.” Remy replied as someone approached the table.

“Are you ready to order?” The waitress asked, having been dismissed earlier.

“Uh… two of the Lunch Specials.” Glen told her.

“Soup or salad?”

“Salad with both.” Glen told her.

“… Les crepes aux fruits de mer,” Remy ordered in a subdued tone, “Wit’ de French Onion soup, sil vous plait.” The waitress eyed him up and down, apparently loving his accent. 

“You got it…” She purred, and sashayed away with their menus. Remy, who normally would have openly flirted, forgot her the moment he had placed his order. God, he wanted a cigarette… And maybe some hard liquor… He found himself wondering why he had agreed to have lunch with the couple… he should have just walked away. But it was too late now. He was here. He had to see it through. 

The three of them remained quiet as they waited for their starters, and simply studied each other, openly. As the couple examined Remy, so he examined them… He didn’t want to admit it, but he could see a resemblance… the man, though aged, looked like he probably had the same body type, and though it was graying heavily, Remy could still see the rusty tones in his hair. The woman had colored her hair, but Remy could see the roots… They too were sprinkled with gray, but looked like they could have some natural auburn. If they truly were his parents, Remy could at least be glad that the man’s hair wasn’t thinning… he wouldn’t be bald by forty, thank you God…

If they truly were his parents, if he hadn’t been a mutant, he would have had soft, muted eyes… Deb showed a blue-gray, and Glen a pale green. Remy suspected that they were Scotch-Irish. Not that it mattered… He was Cajun, blood be damned…

He could see that the woman had very, very similar bone structure in her face and Remy believed that he may very well have Glen’s brow and nose… the more he studied them, the more he was sure… these people were his biological parents.

“Are… dere any pictures?” Remy asked, suddenly. “A Birt’ Certificate?”

“… No.” Deb breathed, dropping her gaze with a look of shame. The salads and soup came then, and for a few minutes, they ate. But they were all just going through the motions… they hardly tasted a damned thing. Halfway through her salad, Deb suddenly let out a soft sob, and the two men froze.

“Remy… I… I am so… so sorry…” She gasped, and looked up at him with tears in her eyes. “I never stopped thinking about you. Never stopped wondering where you were… if you were happy… and safe and loved…” She trailed off when Remy’s face darkened, and he turned away. Deb and Glen glanced at each other, dread in their eyes.

“… Please.” Glen finally said. “Tell us.” Remy scowled and folded his arms. “We have to know…”

“Ain’t y’ business…” Remy said, coldly.

“We left you…” Deb said. “Whatever happened to you is… our fault.”

“Trust Remy, madame… Y’ don’t wanna know. An’ y’ can’t unhear de t’ings Remy would tell ya.”

“Please.” She responded, her tone firm. Remy eyed her. He felt her desperation to know… and Glen’s… they had to know what they had left their son to… Remy glared at them, then deflated.

“D’accord… But Remy warned y’…” He growled, pushing his nearly finished soup aside and swilling his wine in the glass as he considered where to start and what to tell them. Their anxiety grew…

“Leavin’ Remy in N’Awlins left him t’ spiral down into a world dat no decent, honest folk would even b’lieve to exist… Dere be underworlds… and den dere be de Underworlds o’ de Underworlds. And in dose hidden circles, rumor told of de appearance of one known as Le Diable Blanc.” They blinked. “De White Devil.” Remy translated, and their eyes widened. It almost would have been funny, had Remy simply been an onlooker, not privy to the conversation taking place. 

“Dere was dis… ol’ connard called De Antiquary. He collected… ancient t’ings of knowledge and power… magics an’ what not. An’… he also collected children. When he heard dat Remy was in a hospital dere in N’Awlins, he had the Thieves Guild steal le enfant. An’ fo’ a while, dat’s where Remy was… just anot’er artifact. Anot’er piece to add to a hidden museum. But not fo’ long. De Patriarch o’ de Guild didn’t like de idea o’ le enfant bein’ in de hands o’ de Antiquary, and he stole Remy back. Took ‘im away an’ hid ‘im wit’ a gang o’ street kids. Man by de name o’ Fagan took care o’ dem. An’ dat’s where Remy was raised.”

“On the streets?!” Deb gasped in horror.

“Oui,” Remy confirmed, sipping his wine and leaning back in his chair, taking a bit of satisfaction out of the emotional agony of the couple before him. “Remy be a street t’ief ‘til he was ‘bout ten. Dat when he got caught…” The couple eyed the pleased smirk on Remy’s face. “Remy done tried t’ pick de pocket of the Patriarch o’ de T’eives Guild.” He announced, his smirk widening to a grin. “An’ o’ course… Remy got caught. But Remy didn’t get taken t’ de cops. He took Remy home.” Remy’s grin changed to a soft smile, then. “And de next t’ing dis boy know… he be known as Remy Etienne LeBeau. Remy got adopted. An’… Remy had a Papa.” He tossed his head back, then, pushing his hair out of his face and removing his sunglasses. It was the first time he had allowed the people sitting across from him to have an unobscured view of his face. 

“Had a frere, too! Brother! Henri… An’ by de time Remy was t’irteen, he had been inducted into de Guild. Grew up dere, an’ b’came a Master T’ief. An’ fo’ a few years, dis t’ief was happy.”

“I’m sensing a ‘but’…” Glen said slowly.

“Oui…” Remy nodded, and conversation stalled while their lunch was delivered. They waited until the waitress was gone before continuing. 

“… Remy started comin’ into his mutant powers… Didn’t happen easy. Got two mutations, me. Y’ already saw one o’ dem. Started gettin’ dat at about fi’teen. De ot’er part… started showin’ up ‘bout a year earlier. Didn’t know it was a power at first… T’ought it was jus’ me. Call it m’ Charm. Could… influence people… make ‘em like Remy. Make ‘em wanna listen… do what I tell dem. Not mind control, not’in like dat. But dere were a couple o’ times when… t’ings got outta hand. A few times, Remy made someone like ‘im a little too much… an… dey tried t’ do t’ings to Remy… to… Force ‘im…” He ignored the looks of horror on their faces.

“Henri was dere once t’ save Remy’s ass… figurative an’ literal, bot’. An’ Papa a couple times… he was de one dat realized it was Remy’s mutant powers kickin’ in. He made damn sure dat Remy learned t’ control dem real quick… Dere were a couple ot’er times… but Remy was able t’take care o’ hisself.”

He looked down then, cutting into his lunch with the side of his fork, then spearing the piece and transferring it into his mouth. It was good, but he’d had better. The people across from him began to eat, mechanically.

“When Remy turned eighteen… everyt’ing changed…” He said after a bit. “See… the T’ieves ain’t de only Guild in N’Awlins… Our old rivals be de ot’er Guild… De Assassins. But… Remy an’ de petite femme, Bella Donna… we be childhood sweethearts.” He was smiling again. “Met when we were eight… An’ she was de daughter o’ de patriarch o’ de Assassin’s Guild. An’ even after Remy be a LeBeau, well… dat didn’t stop us. Damned Romeo & Juliet love story was unfoldin’ in de Big Easy…” He shook his head, a fond smile on his face. 

“Papa an’ her pere, Marius, dey come up wit’ an idea… Dey decide dat de two o’ us marry… bring peace to de Guilds. An’ as soon as we turned eighteen… we married. She an’ Remy were fine wit’ it. Young as we were, we loved each ot’er… but… Her frere, Julien… he be furious. An’ he couldn’t take it. We had barely left de altar, were still in de church, when Julien attacked Remy an’… challenged him to a duel. Had t’ accept… if Remy refused, would be dishonored… Remy’s reputation be destroyed. Would never be hired as a Master T’ief again, an’ dat was all I knew. So… I accepted.”

He took a few more bites of his lunch, allowing all of this to sink into the two hideously normal people sitting across from him. He knew they were debating on whether or not they believed him, but he didn’t give a damn. They could believe what they wanted.

“Julien,” he declared, “was de better fighter wit’ de rapier an’ dagger. He disarmed Remy… Came in t’ kill. Remy was on de floor… on his back. Did de only t’ing dere was t’ do, me… T’rew my dagger at de connard. Hit ‘im in de shoulder. But… didn’t realize until it was too late dat Remy had… lost control again. De dagger had a charge…” He lifted his knife and it began to glow pink. Deb and Glen stared at it, even as the glow faded again. “De dagger blew up… an… Julien was killed.” Remy sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Won de duel, me. But… had killed de son o’ de Patriarch o’ de Assassins Guild. And de Assassins… well, dey weren’t too pleased. Said dat Remy usin’ his mutant power, accidental o’ not, was dishonorable. An’ dey demanded restitution… dey demanded Remy’s life.”

“Papa argued wit’ dem. An’ so did Belle… Said dat we had married to bring a truce to de Guilds… but Julien broke it only minutes after de truce had been made. Sabotaged everyt’ing on purpose… Belle insisted dat de dishonor be Julien’s. He made de challenge. His death was on his own head, not Remy’s… in de end… de decision was exile. An’ Remy had t’ leave… de Guild, his wife, his Papa… everyt’ing he ever knew…”

“Traveled ‘round afte’ dat. Did some jobs. An’ caught de attention o’ de wrong folk. When my powers started getting’ to be too much fo’ Remy to control, ended up searchin’ out someone who could help…” He picked up his glass and drained the wine. “Biggest mistake Remy ever made… Helped Remy get control o’ his powers, but Remy had t’ do a lot of t’ings he ain’t proud of to pay off de debt. Dis Cajun ain’t never gonna forgive himself fo’what he did, intentional or not… Y’ don’t need to know de details. Jus’ dat… Remy be tryin’ t’ redeem hisself… maybe one day, dis Cajun do enough good to balance all de bad he done.”

He set his fork and knife down, pulled his napkin out of his lap and set it on his half eaten lunch, finished with it. He leaned back in the chair and stared at the two before him. They stared back. Both of them looked like they were being eaten alive by their guilt.

No one noticed the figure outside the window on the street staring at Remy, before turning and lifting a phone to their face, walking away.

After a bit, Remy sighed. “Ain’t gonna say it’s been fun an’ sunshine since Remy left N’awlins. Just been one trial after anot’er…” He leaned forward then as the waitress came to take their plates, and Remy grabbed the check before the couple even noticed it had been placed on the table. “Maybe it jus’ be karma. Got a lot t’ atone fo’, me. But dat ain’t not’in y’all need to hear ‘bout.” When Deb opened her mouth, Remy held up a hand. “Non.”

“Remy gon’ be honest. Carry a lot of anger t’wards you, me. Ain’t gonna deny dat. Got no’tin but hell as a chile, all b’cause of my eyes. Le Diable Blanc… But Remy never f’get dat it all started somewhere. Wit’ you. You two be de first to make a decision ‘bout dis Cajun… jus’ cause o’ how he looked. Jus’ cause his eyes be different.” He leaned in close, narrowing his eyes. “Y’ abandoned me. An innocent new born… ain’t done nut’in. De firs’ ten years o’ hell? Dey on YOU.” He leaned back then, satisfied with the devastated looks on their faces. “Always t’ought I’d forgiven you. Now, face to face… Remy not so sure.” He grabbed the wine bottle and emptied it into his glass. 

“Y’ ain’t dis T’ief’s parents.” He said, firmly. “Remy got a Papa. An’ someone he loves like his Mama. Ain’t you. Don’t hate you… but can’t love you neither. An’ you should feel guilty. Fo’ everyt’ing dat happened to Remy as a boy. But only fo’ dat. Dere been a lot of ot’er bad stuff. But Remy ain’t gonna tell ya. Because it ain’t y’ business an’ b’cause Remy know you’ll feel guilty fo’ it. But you shouldn’t. All de rest I ain’t tellin’ you? Remy made his own choices. An’ a lot of dem were bad. An’ Remy suffered. But dey were his own choices, oui? An’ Remy ain’t gonna let y’ guilt y’selves over dem. De only guilt you should have be de guilt dat come from y’ own choice. De one you made dat brought sufferin’ on an innocent, b’fore he was too young to make his own choices.” Then he had his wallet out, and was laying cash on the table.

“Remy not sure if he’s happy ‘bout dis meetin’.” He admitted, standing. The couple stood, too. “But maybe… we all got old wounds dat can finally start to heal.” He saw Deb’s hand trembling, and he felt her longing. And cursing himself for breaking, he reached out, and took her hand. The relief that came from her was instantaneous. And then, Glen was gripping his shoulder. And Remy let him. Dammit… he inwardly groaned, and outwardly sighed. He knew he couldn’t leave it at that.

“Remy’s life been one steamin’ pile o’ shit afte’ anot’er. Half o’ dem dis Cajun brought on hisself. But fo’ now… be in good place, me. Good home wit’ good people. A life wit’ purpose. Even people who love Remy… despite everyt’ing. Fo’ now… Remy be happy.”

“That’s all we could hope to hear.” Deb told him, tears streaming down her face. Remy tensed when she reached out, but allowed her to press a hand to his cheek, if only for a moment. He simply nodded to her, but no smile came to his face. Deb finally spoke again. “We… We would like to be able to… keep in touch. If you’re okay with that?”

Remy frowned, and immediately closed himself off and stepped back, releasing Deb’s hand and moving away from Glen’s. 

“Not sure dat would be wise.” He said stiffly, and the sunglasses were back on.

“… We understand.” Glen said, then reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, offering it. “We won’t pursue it. But… if you ever decide to call… We’ll be happy to hear from you.”

Remy lowered his gaze to the card, and stared at it for a long time. He kept telling himself to turn around and walk away. To let it end there. But instead, he found himself reaching out and accepting the card. Then, he and Glen shared a brief handshake, he nodded to Deb, and then turned around and walked out of the restaurant. They were on his heels, but he firmly ignored them, even as he felt their gaze burning into the back of his head as they stood outside the bistro and watched him walk away.

He felt them watching when he paused, going rigid, before relief swept through him. He moved forwards now with long strides, already wanting to weep at the sight of the open arms before him, a smoldering cigar still in one of the hands. And then he was caught in the powerful embrace, even as he dropped his shopping bags and let his arms curl around broad shoulders. He hid his face in the wild black hair and inhaled the scent of his lover.

“… How?” He managed to get out.

“Rogue called me.” Came the gruff response. “Said somethin’ was up with ya. I came in ta town and tracked ya down. What’s wrong?”

Remy just shook his head, his throat now too tight to speak. Instead, he snatched the cigar from Logan’s fingers and brought it to his lips, sucking fiercely on it. Logan quirked a brow at the grimace on Remy’s face as he held it in, before breathing out a plume of smoke, charging what remained of the thing and tossing it away, heedless of the alarm from people around him as it exploded with a loud PAFF!!! 

“Come on, Cajun. Let’s get ya outta here.” 

And Remy allowed himself to be led over to the feral’s Harley. Logan made quick work of shoving Remy’s purchases into the saddle bags before he climbed on. And then Remy was behind him, wrapping his arms tightly around Logan’s waist and turning his head, pressing his face into the side of Logan’s neck. Logan frowned, not liking what he could smell and feel from his Cajun. He turned and looked at the older couple that were still watching... the couple that had upset HIS Cajun... He narrowed his eyes and glared at them, baring his teeth and then let the roar of the engine waking cover the sound of his claws sliding out, damn the people around them. The couple looked startled, as he had intended. Then he revved the engine, sheathed his claws and gunned it, the bike roaring into traffic and weaving through it.

Deborah and Glen Campbell watched their lost son leave on the back of the bike with a frightening man who virtually radiated protective fury… and then they were gone. The couple glanced at each other, and then Glen looked down. Deb followed his gaze. The man opened his hand, revealing what Remy had pressed to his palm when they had shaken hands. 

It was a playing card. The Jack of Spades.

Three blocks away, at a stop light, Logan glanced back at the russet hair on his shoulder. He didn’t like the trembling he felt in his lover’s body. He could smell that Remy was close to completely losing his composure. 

“Rems… Talk ta me… who… who were those people?”

“Merde….” Remy breathed. “Fuck… Fuck, Logan…”

“Darlin’?” Logan probed, carefully.

“Parents.”

“… What?!”

“Dey be… Remy’s parents.” Came the answer, in a voice that felt thin and brittle.

“… Shit.” Logan breathed. “Just… stick with me, kid. Can ya hold on ‘til we get—“

“Don’t wanna go home, me!” Remy cried, his distress levels climbing.

“Shhh…” Logan soothed as the light turned green. “We’re not. Just… Hold yerself t’gether. Gonna be a long ride.”

“… Long ride… sounds good, cher.” Came the murmured response, and the pair just hunkered down, and rode.

By the time they had reached their destination, it was dark and Logan was worried. Remy had kept his face hidden in his neck the entire ride. Hardly moved. And for the energetic Cajun, that was far from normal. Logan was relieved when he brought his bike to a stop and shut off the engine. After a moment, he felt Remy finally lift his head. He knew that the empath could feel where they were. His face was pale and lined, his eyes were swollen and bloodshot, and the relief that Logan saw was palpable. Logan smiled slightly and turned to face forwards as the words filled their minds... 

'You know that place between sleep and awake, where you still remember dreaming?' 

Even Remy smiled slightly as Logan responded, 'That's where I'll be waitin...' 

'Dat's where I'll always love you.' 

The front door of the building opened, and Spencer Reid came rushing out, having felt the pair arrive. He had been waiting for them, after Logan called to tell him that something was wrong… that something had happened to Remy. 

Already, Remy was off the bike and hurrying forwards. Logan watched as the pair met, catching each other up in a strong embrace, relief surrounding them both. Spencer said nothing as he stepped back, he just rested his hands on Remy’s cheeks and studied the older man, concern thick in his own brown eyes. Then he just said “Come on… hot shower first.” And Remy just nodded, and allowed himself to be guided into the apartment building.

Three hours later, and the three of them, showered and in pajamas, were all sitting in Spencer’s living room, hot mugs of cocoa in their hands. Remy had distanced himself from the other two, curling up in the arm chair, while Spencer and Logan sat on the sofa. The room was dimly lit. All lights were off, the only source of light came from Spencer’s fireplace, and the little colored bubbles of light that Spencer had willed into existence… fairy lights, as some of the girls at the Xavier School had named them.

Remy had just finished telling the other two about everything that had transpired that afternoon. Logan glanced at Spencer, then sighed.

“… Do ya wanna call em?” He finally asked. All gazes fell to the business card sitting on the coffee table. 

“Non.” Remy whispered. “Don’t know why Remy even took de card, me.” He sighed and huddled down a bit further into the blanket that he was cocooned in. “Dis Cajun done said all he got to say t’ dem. Don’t ever wanna see dem again. Don’t wanna speak t’dem, don’t wanna know ‘bout deir lives…” He gasped and shuddered, bowing his head and hiding his face. The Wolverine watched him sadly… he could smell his Cajun’s tears.

“… Then it’s gone.” Spencer told him, reaching out and taking the card from the table, then turning and flicking the thing. Remy’s eyes followed it as it spun through the air and landed in the fire, it’s edges turning brown and curling before charring and falling away as the flames consumed the thing.

‘What if he changes his mind later?’ Logan thought to Spencer, careful to keep Remy from ‘hearing’.

‘Eidetic memory, Logan. All he has to do is ask.’ Spencer responded with a shadow of a smile. Logan gave him an admiring smirk, and then they both turned their attention back to Remy. The three sat in silence for a very long time.

Spencer was the one who broke it when he noticed Remy’s glazed eyes were drooping. “Come on…” He whispered, moving over to the chair and taking the empty mug from Remy’s hands. “Let’s go to bed.” Remy allowed himself to be guided to his feet, and while Spencer took Remy back to the bedroom, Logan took care of the fire.

He joined his lovers back in the bedroom. Remy was curled up on his side, Spencer behind him, gently running his fingers through Remy’s hair. Logan slid between the sheets in front of Remy, immediately going to wrap his Cajun up in his arms, as Spencer spooned him from behind.

No one said a word as the first sob tore past Remy’s lips. They just moved in and held him, safe and secure, as he cried himself to sleep… and long after…


	5. Impotent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All it took was one word. 
> 
> ONE. WORD.
> 
> Standing before them were several alpha males. Just human, yes… but they had possibly just signed their death warrants. The one in the lead, a tall, broad, muscular blonde… had just accused Remy LeBeau, the Ragin’ Cajun, Le Diable Blanc, The King of Thieves, Gambit himself… of being impotent.|
> 
> Happy Birthday, Keegan!

All it took was one word. 

ONE. WORD.

Dr. Spencer Reid’s eyes widened and his jaw dropped. Logan, the Wolverine himself, spewed his beer across the table.

And Remy LeBeau just gaped, and sputtered.

Standing before them were several alpha males. Just human, yes… but they had possibly just signed their death warrants. The one in the lead, a tall, broad, muscular blonde… had just accused Remy LeBeau, the Ragin’ Cajun, Le Diable Blanc, The King of Thieves, Gambit himself… of being impotent.

Remy Etienne LeBeau.

Impotent…

Spencer slumped over and put his face into his hands and groaned, “Oh, shit.”

No one would deny that the young adult mutant, Remy LeBeau, was a man full of pride and vanity. It may not have started out that way. No, when he was small child on the streets, being shunned and called demon, devil, evil, even antichrist, he had nothing but contempt for his own appearance. How many nights did he cry himself to sleep, if he slept at all? He had never told a soul, but there had even been a couple of nights when he found some sharp object while rooting around in the trash for something to eat, and held it in his hand, staring at it, wondering if perhaps, his life might actually be better if he gouged out his own eyes…

In the end, he never did. And when he was ten, he met a man who didn’t condemn him for how he looked. No, instead, Jean Luc LeBeau picked him up and carried him to his magnificent house the likes of which Remy had only DREAMED of setting foot inside of. He had stripped away his filthy clothes and set the little boy in the bathtub, and Remy, for the first time he could remember, not only had a hot bath, but was bathed by caring, gentle hands. He had held still, marveling in the touches that were meant to soothe and care for him, and not harm him. Though he kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, it never did.

After the bath he was dressed a large nightshirt that was much too big for his small, emaciated frame, and then was given hot soup. It was the most delicious meal the little boy had ever tasted. He had then been tucked into massive, luxurious bed and slept like the dead for nearly fourteen hours. The man he been there when he woke, with warm smiles and gentle hands and kind words, and then another hot meal…

And the next thing Remy knew, this place was his home, and this man was his papa. It took some doing, but Jean Luc LeBeau awoke something in the child that Remy had never knew existed: A lust for life and a self confidence. As he grew older, as he matured, as he went through puberty, Remy changed. All of a sudden, he was seeing the looks people gave him. And they weren’t looking at his eyes. But the looks on their face could only be admiration, appreciation, and sometimes lust. Remy found this new and strange. When he pointed it out to his papa one evening, Jean Luc laughed heartily, and had given the young teenager an affectionate grin, with a hint of sadness beneath.

“Remy…” He had said, “y’ got no idea, do y’?” And he had led Remy to a large mirror in the hall and made the boy look at himself. He had stroked Remy’s hair, brushing it back from his face, where Remy usually liked to keep it. “Look at y’self.” Jean Luc had commanded. “Y’ growin’ into a man now, Remy. An’ a damn handsome one at dat. Dese people be seein’ what y’ have been refusin’ t’ see.” He grinned, reaching around and placing his fingers under Remy’s chin, making him lift his head. Then with the deft fingers of a Master Thief, he plucked Remy’s sunglasses off of his face and pulled off the trench coat that Remy had taken to wearing. Then he stripped off the boy’s t-shirt and Remy stared at himself, at his bare chest with defined muscles forming from his training as a thief.

“You’re beautiful, mon fils…” Jean Luc said. “Truly. Y’ always have been. But people neve’ looked past y’ eyes… y’ always hid y’self away in de dark an’ shadows an’ did y’ best t’ blend in… so de eyes were de only t’ings people could see. But now? Now, y’ keep dem hidden an’ got de rest o’ y’self out dere on display. An’ dey see y’. Y’ be a very attractive young man, Remy! Dere be so many folk dat would kill t’ look de way y’ do! De only one dat ain’t seein’ it, be YOU!!! Now, time f’ YOU t’ look past y’ eyes… an’ see de rest…”

And Remy did. He had been amazed. The weeks after that saw a dramatic change in Remy. Always cocky, his arrogance, that had amused and frustrated his papa to no end, no longer applied to just his skills… but now to his looks. Suddenly, Remy was asking to borrow his papa’s Credit Card to go shopping… At the curious look Jean Luc gave him, Remy explained “Need t’ get some clothes dat actually be stylin’, Papa!” Jean Luc looked beyond amused. “Gotta make sure dey look right on Remy, oui? Dis ain’t no snatch an’ grab trip! Gotta try dem on, check t’ings out… dat make Remy too conspicuous t’ get away wit’ stealin’ dem, non?”

Grinning at his son’s reasoning, and glad that the boy might just finally be getting some pride in himself, Jean Luc had handed it over. Of course, eve HE had no idea what he was getting into. He had actually choked on his drink when he got the Credit Card statement, stunned that even his Remy had spent that much. But the boy that shuffled around the house and skulked around New Orleans was gone… 

Jean Luc had to admit, months later, that his Remy had become a damned peacock. 

And that never changed… Into his young adulthood, Remy could shop like a diva from hell. He had a couple of brief periods where his vain self faded away under depression… after his Exile from New Orleans, and following his near evisceration by Sabretooth and the Morlock Massacre (and to this day, those scars were a blow to his ego)… but once he settled in somewhere, or when he was in the presence of people he felt he needed to posture for (such as the X-Men, any basically any one else who showed any kind of self confidence or authority), his inner peacock would come strutting right out like a God damned Vegas Showgirl. 

And speaking of Vegas…

Las Vegas born Dr. Spencer Reid sat in a club, far from pleased to be there. But he was more than pleased at the view he currently had… that being one peacocking Remy LeBeau on the dance floor, dressed to impress, as always, and moving his body in ways that were too hot to be legal…

“Kid’s gonna get himself molested.” 

Spencer jumped at the low growl, and blinked at the drink that was set before him. He turned and smiled at Logan. “Somehow, I think that’s his plan.” He said. “To make you jealous. And then you drag us home for… Uh…” He flushed and sipped his drink, even as the man beside him chuckled.

Relaxing back in his seat, Logan watched Remy move, a smirk on his face. “I drag y’all home an’ pound his ass so hard he won’t be able ta go out dancin’ again fer a week.”

Spencer let out a squeak and coughed as he choked on his drink. “Logan!”

“Heh… Just sayin’ what ya implied, darlin’…”

“I imply so it doesn’t HAVE to be said!” Spencer complained, looking scandalized. Logan grinned at the boy, only just barely old enough to drink. Spencer had turned twenty one only a month ago. And Remy had turned twenty one that summer. And the last two summers as well, apparently… Logan grinned and shook his head in amusement at the Cajun. He had been pretty damned sure that when Remy first announced he was turning twenty one, that the kid had been lying… he HAD to be eighteen. Maybe. But of course, they really weren’t sure. When he had been adopted by Jean Luc LeBeau, they had guessed at his age. Now Remy liked to play around with that uncertainty to drive people crazy. Like turning twenty one for three years in a row.

Ass…

“Uh oh. Here we go.” Spencer mumbled and Logan raised his eyes. Several women had approached Remy, and were making no efforts to disguise the fact that they were all blatantly undressing him with their eyes.

His little smile of enjoyment at just dancing and feeling the emotions around him changed to a devlish grin as he allowed the women to move in. They soon had him enclosed on all sides and moved with him in a rather sexual display.

Logan was smirking, amused, and Spencer was almost pouting. “Don’t be jealous, darlin’…” Logan chuckled, rubbing Spencer’s back. “Ya know he ain’t gonna go home with anyone but us. Let him have his fun. Ain’t like we’re gonna git up there and dance with him, right?”

Spencer blinked, then sighed and drooped, nodding. “Just enjoy watchin’ him move an’ doin’ what he loves ta do. Ain’t no different than when tha two of you watch me work out on the back lawn, or us watchin’ ya read.”

“We aren’t doing that with half naked women draped over us.” Spencer grumbled, and Logan chuckled. 

“Let the empath get his fix.” And he curled an arm around Spencer, turning and nuzzling his nose into the young man’s hair, rumbling happily at the scent of his mate. Spencer was unable to hold back his smile.

But then, Logan caught the voice.

“Hey! HEY!” He turned and stiffened, and Spencer looked up.

“… Uh oh.”

Several men had approached, and the women were now backing away from Remy, some looking a bit contrite, some looking pleased.

“Aw, hell… enter the boyfriends…” Logan sighed.

“Should we…?”

“Nah. Let Rems handle it. Ain’t the first time he’s done this.” Logan snorted.

“Lovely.” Spencer sighed.

On the dance floor, Remy was flashing the men around him a dashing smile.

“Bonsoir, mes amis… Join us!” He declared, opening his arms in welcome. Instead, one of the men fisted a hand in his shirt and spun him around, off of the dance floor and pushing him up into the wall near the table where Spencer and Logan were watching. Remy grunted at the impact, but kept his hands up peaceably and saying “Desole, but… dis Cajun may have missed somet’ing? Did Remy do somet’in’ t’ upset y’?”

“Don’t take too kindly to it when skinny little fuckers touch my girl…” Snarled the aggressive blonde pinning Remy to the wall.

“Ah… was afraid dat might be de case, me…” Remy nodded. “All due respect, monsieur, didn’t know dey was spoken fo’, me… an’ dey approached dis Cajun, not de ot’er way ‘round, oui?” He grunted when he was released for a moment, only to slump forward and be slammed back into the wall. Now he was looking less friendly. “Was an honest mistake, homme…” He growled now. 

“You’re got a reputation for messing with women that aren’t yours…” The man snarled, and Remy narrowed his eyes.

“Now hold on dere…” He hissed, moving He grabbed the meaty part of the man’s hand at the base of his thumb, prying his hand off and twisting it, even as he side stepped around. The man yelped as his arm was twisted painfully and he stumbled to the side. Remy released him and stepped back. He was no longer pinned, but as his assailant had bent between Remy and his buddies, Remy had effectively stepped into a position that had him surrounded. The blonde jerk’s buddies were, in fact, closing rank around the Cajun, while their girls watched, almost eagerly.

“Dat may be true… but dis Cajun back off when he knows de femme be spoken fo’… don’t mess wit’ another man’s girl. Or man. Ain’t into cheatin’, me. But if a femme ain’t wearin’ a ring an’ don’t tell Remy dat she got someone, how de fuck dis Cajun s’posed t’ know, hehn?” And he shot the girls a look from behind his shades. “B’sides… it was jus’ dancin’. Wasn’t like Remy was gonna take any o’ dem home wit’ ‘im… even if dey was single.” He turned and started to walk towards the table with Logan and Spencer, saying “now let dis be de end of it.”

The men watched him go, all looking like they really wanted to get into it, but none of them willing to throw the first punch. Then, a dark haired man called “Naw… See, I’ve seen you here before, man… a lot. I’ve seen you with a lotta women. And men. Always dancing, always staring, always flirting… and yet, you never leave with ANY of them… You’re all for the game, until someone’s ready to play it for real. And then you run like hell…”

“De flirtin’ be fun, mec…” Remy shrugged, his smirk still on his face. “Gotta get m’ fix on de dance floor. Enjoy it, me! Enjoy de flirtin’ too, oui… an’ de lookin’… but in de end, dis Cajun can look, but don’t touch. In a relationship. An’ be very satisfied wit’ it, me. De flirtin’ an’ de dancin’ be okay, cuz Remy’s partners, dey not into de scene, but understand dat I need it, me! So Remy can flirt… an’ Remy can dance, an’ Remy can look… but Remy always go home wit’ de one he love. Don’t touch no one else, me. An’ dis Cajun be t’inkin’ it be time t’ head home an’ do some touchin’ wit’ de only ones Remy touch. Bon nuit, mes amis…” And he gave them a little bow, spun on his heel and started to walk away.

“Yeah.” Laughed the man. “Keep going, freak. You tell a nice tale, but we can see right through it! You come in here dressed like, like sex on a stick and dancing like you can deliver it up in the bedroom, but in the end you don’t take anyone home because you can’t give them what you’re promising… You’re just trying to compensate and cover up the fact that you’re nothing but an impotent freak!"

Logan choked and spewed his beer across the table. The room seemed to go still. Everyone was staring now. 

“Oh shit…” Spencer groaned, as a gaping Remy LeBeau finally managed to get out, “E-Excuse-moi?!”

“Remy, let it go.” Spencer called, standing and moving towards him. 

“What did you jus’ say?!” Remy demanded, still looking flabbergasted as he began to advance on the men, who were grinning in triumph and readying themselves for what, they believed, would be a beat down. But then, Remy reached up and whipped off his sunglasses, allowing his blazing red eyes to pin the men with his dangerous glare. And the men froze, sudden shock and fear on their faces as they, and many other people in the club, began to back away.

“Fuck! He’s a mutant!” One of the men yelped.

“Remy!” Logan called, now moving to stop Remy, while Spencer moved to herd the girls who had, apparently on purpose, started this scene that was heading towards a complete disaster, out of harm’s way.

But then, one of the girls suddenly looked horrified as she screamed “BRIAN, NO!!!” Spencer turned at the desperation in her tone, and his eyes widened as one of the men had pulled out a handgun and turned it on Remy.

The shot was a loud pop over the still-pulsing music, and there were screams… and then it all went still again.

“Logan!” Remy gasped. “Fils de putain!” Logan was standing in front of Remy, doubled over and clutching his stomach.

“Shit… SHIT!” Cried one of the men, and the one who had pulled the trigger looked paralyzed in shock. But then, slowly, Logan straightened up, growling audibly as he glared at the men. He ripped his shirt open and tilted his head, cracking his neck as he declared, “I liked this shirt.” The crowd watched in silent amazement as he then dug his fingers into his own wound and then flicked his wrist… the bullet bounced across the floor and the wound healed over in seconds. Then, still growling, Logan crouched and threw his arms out to the side, unsheathing his claws. 

Without a word, Remy moved beside him, snapping out his retractable staff and fanning out a hand of cards, already glowing a bright fuschia.

Panicking, two of the other men pulled guns and raised them and—

“STOP!!!” 

People screamed, startled as they were momentarily blinded by the bright wall of light that had materialized out of nowhere between the two mutants, and the men who had been looking for a fight until they had seen Remy’s eyes.

“That is ENOUGH!” Spencer shouted, hands up. “You idiots put the guns away, NOW! Remy! Logan! STOP IT!”

“Hell no, Nightlight! Dese fuckers—“

“Had no idea what they were dealing with and now they’re scared to death! Were they in the wrong? Absolutely! Every step of the way through this! But that’s no excuse for you to put them all in the hospital!”

“How ‘bout the morgue?”

“NOT funny, Logan. Put them away!”

Neither Remy, nor Logan moved to obey. Spencer narrowed his eyes, and the wall curled down over them.

“HEY!” Remy shouted angrily as he and Logan found themselves trapped in a dome of light. Spencer spun on his heel and stalked over to their table, digging in Logan’s leather jacket for his wallet, and threw a couple of twenties down on the table, then gathered Remy’s duster and his own wool pea coat into his arms.

“We are going home.” He declared firmly, glaring at his lovers. 

“But dey—“

“Called you impotent. I know. They’re just words meant to rile you up. And they were embarrassingly successful, I might add. I can speak from personal experience that you are far from impotent, Remy. And if you want the chance to prove it all over again, just to assuage your ridiculously overinflated ego, then you’ll stop behaving like a completely emasculated idiot who’s totally insecure with his sexuality and masculinity. NOW.”

The whole room just STARED at Spencer now, who was bright red in embarrassment.

The Cajun blinked, and then grinned as the glow faded from his cards. He skillfully folded the hand and tucked them away, retracting his staff.

“Oh, y’ be talkin m’ language now, cher… keep goin’…”

“Shut up.” Spencer snapped. “Logan?!”

“… He ain’t provin’ nuthin’ on me…” Logan growled, glaring back and forth between Spencer and Remy, who threw his head back and laughed, ruffling Logan’s hair and then leaping back to avoid the swipe of claws when he said “ah, who be de one insecure in ‘is masculinity now?”

“Both of you knock it off. Claws away!”

Logan grumbled and glared, but slowly sheathed them. Spencer then turned and glared at the trouble making pack of men, but before he could say anything, the police had arrived, having been called the moment the gun had appeared. Spencer immediately dropped the shield over Logan and Remy and passed them their jackets.

“Let’s get de hell out…” Remy murmured, not wanting Spencer involved in any police reports… he was only newly with the Bureau, he didn’t want to ruin Spencer’s career by outing him as a mutant…

And expertly, the mutants managed to make themselves disappear into the crowd and out the back door.

On the drive home, Logan felt very uncomfortable. Spencer was still quite angry with the pair of them, and Remy was… uncharacteristically quiet, staring out the window with a scowl on his face and his eyes glassy and distant… Logan just KNEW he was still stewing over being called… hell, Logan wasn’t even going to THINK the word, the damned empath just might FEEL it.

Upon arriving at the mansion, Remy slid out of the car and headed inside, cursing the cold weather. Spencer was on his heels. The pair headed for the kitchen, Spencer wanting some hot coffee with cocoa, and Remy deciding that he hadn’t had nearly enough to drink yet.

Logan took his time, enjoying the cold. But he didn’t much care for the cold on the face of Scott Summers, who emerged from the living room and glared at him, folding his arms. 

“What’s this on the news about shots fired at a club in town and possible mutant involvement?”

“… They started it.”

“LOGAN!”

“Hey! I’m the one that got shot, bub!” Logan snapped, opening his jacket to let Scott see the blood smeared hole in his shirt. “Bastard was aimin’ fer Remy!”

“What did Remy do?!”

“Took off his shades. They started it. Tried ta pick a fight with the kid. He handled it fine until…”

“Until?”

“… One of the bastards accused him of bein’ impotent…” Logan muttered, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Oh, fuck.” Scot groaned, closing his eyes and pushing up his glasses to rub at them. But he let them drop down as he and Logan looked up at the sudden laughter. Logan glared as Warren came down the stairs, looking beyond tickled.

“Shut up, Warren…” Scott groaned.

“Sorry…” Warren snickered, managing to put a lid on it as he walked by.

Scott shook his head and turned back to Logan.

“Details, please…”

Meanwhile, in the kitchen, Rogue and Storm were sitting at the table, watching Remy bang around, making Spencer his coffee and cocoa, and shooting Spencer questioning looks. Spencer just sighed, watching as Remy put a splash of amaretto into Spencer’s hot beverage before handing it to him, and then proceeded to just finish off the bottle of amaretto himself.

“Remy… You already drank your dinner, do you really need that?”

“Dessert.” Remy shrugged, finishing off the bottle and then turned to rinse it out before putting it in the recycling.

At that moment, Warren entered the room. Spencer was immediately on guard, seeing the smug look on his face, and the way he grinned when he saw Remy… Remy side stepped him and tossed the bottle into the recycling bin before digging around for Logan’s stash of beer.

“What’s wrong, Gambit?” Warren asked, sounding a little too cheerful. Remy paused. “Drowning your sorrows?”

“What sorrows, mec?” He asked, stiffly. Warren watched him sit down beside Rogue, and across from Spencer. He tensed when Warren let his hand drop onto his shoulder.

“Heard you’re having some performance issues, pal.”

Rogue and Storm froze, eyes wide, and Spencer’s own eyes slid closed with a soft groan.

“You know… they have medications to help with that. I’ll loan you the cash if you need something for your ED.”

“Aw, hell…” Rogue sighed, and simply watched as Remy’s beer bottle began to glow. Storm looked resigned.

Out in the hall, Logan was wrapping up the story for Scott. “—Spencer talked tha Cajun down, I guess, and—“

CRASH!!!

Logan and Scott whirled, just in time to see Warren stumble out of the kitchen and into the wall, before turning and running. A moment later and Remy skidded out on his heels, murderous intent burning in his eyes. Snarling, he gave chase, shouting “Gon’ have us some damn big buffalo wings fo’ de game tomorrow, mec!!!”

“Oh shit…” Scott groaned, and reluctantly made himself head towards the pair, who were battling down the hallway. Heads were poking out of doorways right and left. Logan rolled his eyes to the heavens, heaved a great sigh and went to help Scott separate the two, who had made it out onto the back porch by now. 

Warren attempted to take flight, but Remy snagged his ankle with one hand and the door frame with another, and groaning out “Oh no y’ don’t, y’ damned goose-fucker!” he managed to use Warren’s efforts against him and with a yelp, Warren crashed down to the cold patio on his chest. HARD.

With a wordless battle cry, Remy leapt at him.

“Oh no ya don’t!” Logan declared, catching Remy around the waist and heaving him back, wrapping his other arm around the writhing Cajun while Scott went to check on Warren.

“Merde! Let go, Logan!” Remy commanded, a vicious tone in his voice. Now heads were poking out of windows. Remy’s eyes were blazing bright in the darkness, fixed on Warren with lethal intent.

“Chill the fuck out, Cajun.” Logan grumbled, wincing as Remy elbowed him damn hard in the stomach. But he didn’t loosen his grip. “What the hell happened?!” He demanded to know once Spencer, Storm and Rogue appeared in the doorway. Now Scott was holding Warren back, as the man had tried to go after Remy hissing out “I’ll show that filthy, disease-ridden bayou rat--”

“Enough!” Scott snapped. 

“Let ‘em go, sugah…” Rogue said, smirking. “We all know Angel can’t take Gambit in a fair fight… This’ll be a helluva smackdown. An’ one that Warren deserves, if y’ ask me.”

“What did I do?!?” Warren howled.

“You deliberately goaded him and picked a fight.” Storm said, giving Warren a look. Now Scott glared at Warren.

“What the hell did you say?” He asked, but Warren didn’t answer. “… Spencer? Word for word, please.”

Spencer’s response was immediate. “What’s wrong, Gambit, drowning your sorrows? Heard you’re having some performance issues, pal. You know, they have medications to help with that. I’ll loan you the cash if you need something for your ED.”

Logan snarled and Scott slowly looked back at Warren and then smacked him upside the head. “You know… I’m tempted to tell Logan to let him go.”

“Oh, ya don’t hafta tell me. I’m lettin’ him go.” Logan snorted, and did just that. Remy lunged and a second later, Warren yelped and fell back to the ground, courtesy of Remy’s fist. Remy tried to go after him again, but he was caught by large, furry blue hands.

“That it quite enough.” Everyone stopped and turned. Xavier was there in the doorway in his house robe. He had apparently been in bed, and was NOT looking happy at having to get out of bed to referee… 

"Calm down, my Acadian friend." Hank sighed as Remy struggled to get free of his furry blue arms.

“Now… what is going on here?” Xavier demanded to know as he glared at Remy, who slowly stilled his struggles in Beast’s grip.

“Warren started it.” Rogue huffed, giving the man a look. Xavier quirked a brow.

“He purposely antagonized Remy.” Storm nodded, calmly. Xavier turned and gave Warren a look, and then said “I am pulling rank. Bed. ALL of you.”

The X-Men stared at him, but then all silently moved to obey, like sheepish children. Xavier sighed and shook his head, but his lips quirked in amusement when Spencer fixed a glare on both Remy, and Logan, making the pair cringe.

Once they were ensconced in their room, Spencer headed for the bathroom, a scowl on his face.

“Aw, c’mon now, Nightlight… Don’t be like dat!” Remy whined, and Logan huffed and started to undress, calling “C’mon, Spencer… the Cajun’s still all riled up!”

“Not my problem!” Spencer called back. Rey grumbled under his breath and moved over to the window, flinging it open and perching on the rail of the little balcony, lighting up a cigarette. Logan turned and stalked into the bathroom, jerking the shower curtain back a bit before hopping up onto the counter and glaring at Spencer .

“Git yer ass back out there an’ help me with the damn swamp rat.”

“What do you want ME to do?!”

“What do you think? He was called impotent, accused of having performance issues, and erectile dysfunction!”

“But he DOESN’T!!!” Spencer cried, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair. “We all know that perfectly well!”

“That ain’t the point, darlin’.” Logan sighed. “I’m too old ta let things like that get ta me. An’ yer mind don’t allow ya ta take things ta heart that ain’t factual. But Remy’s emotional. Ya know that. And not just ‘cause he’s an empath! He’s ruled by his emotions, Spencer. Those jabs went straight ta his pride, an’ true or not, he’s hurtin’ over ‘em. You can feel it.”

Spencer was silent for a long time as he finished bathing… and as he focused on the emotions coming from Remy. He sighed and stepped out, wrapping a towel around himself as Logan hopped off the counter and stripped, stepping in.

“… Alright.” Spencer finally mumbled, and Logan grinned under the spray. Spencer dried off, tugged on his pajama pants and left the bathroom, forgoing the shirt. Which he promptly regretted when he stepped straight into the frigid wind coming in through the window where Remy was smoking.

“OhmigodthatsCOLD!!!” He squealed, frozen to the spot as it stole his breath away. Remy turned and eyed him (especially his nipples), then chuckled, flicking his cigarette away and letting it pop in the air. He stepped inside and closed the window.

“Desole, Spencer…” He said, walking over and leaning in to kiss him. But the moment his fingers brushed Spencer’s shoulders, he let out a shriek and leapt back yelping “your hands are FREEZING!!! Hot shower! NOW!!!” Remy laughed, stripping down right there, grinning as Spencer eyed the skin that was revealed, and then sashayed into the bathroom. 

A moment later, there was a roar from the Wolverine and a thunderous “JESUS FUCK, YOUR HANDS ARE FREEZING!!!” And then Logan was stalking out of the bathroom, dripping wet, leaving Remy in the shower, just howling. Spencer quirked a brow.

“… Damned Cajun thought it would be funny to grab my ass with his freezing cold hands.” He grumbled, accepting the towel from Spencer, as he had fled the bathroom without grabbing his own.

“You like the cold!” Spencer laughed.

“Not when I’m in a hot shower an’ I didn’t hear him come in!” Logan snapped, thoroughly disgruntled.

“… Still wanna make him feel better?” Spencer asked, slyly. Logan glared and growled under his breath as he went for the bedside table and grabbed the lube, making Spencer grin. A few minutes later, the shower turned off and Remy emerged with Logan’s towel around his waist, while he used his own towel to dry his hair. When he dropped it, he grinned. Logan was glaring at him, arms folded across his chest, and Spencer was giving Remy a look between amused, and appraising. Remy grinned down at himself, then looked back at Spencer.

“Like what y’ see, mon amour?”

“You know I do.” Spencer answered, smiling at Remy’s grin.

“… Y’ look like y’ got somet’in’ planned fo’ dis here Cajun…” Remy purred, advancing on Spencer with a wicked glimmer in his eye. Spencer smirked.

“… Logan first.”

Remy yelped when he was suddenly seized and dragged across the room by a powerful hand on his bicep. Logan dropped down into his arm chair, spun Remy around and grabbed his hips to hold him still. Still disoriented from the spin, Remy could only gasp when Logan wedge his knees between Remy’s and then spread his own legs, effectively opening Remy wide. Remy let out a yip and windmilled his arms when this made him lose his balance. But the hands on his hips guided his fall, spreading him open at the same time, and when Remy went down, he landed on Logan’s hard erection, impaling himself. He let out a wordless cry of shock as he sunk down until Logan bottomed out within him, and then Remy just went limp, slumping back into Logan’s chest, his head falling back to rest on his shoulder. 

Logan turned and nuzzled the white throat, rumbling softly in satisfaction as he ran his hands over his lover’s body, simply appreciating feeling his lover LIVE… the solid thumps of his heart in his chest under Logan’s palm… the feel of his chest expanding in Logan’s hands each time his lungs inflated… the quiver of his thighs on Logan’s, and the soft flutters and sporadic ripples of his inner muscles around the feral’s girth, buried deep, deep inside…

Logan raised his gaze and smirked. Spencer was sitting on the edge of the bed, his lips parted as he panted softly, wide eyes fixed on where Logan and Remy were joined as he absently caressed himself between his legs, almost seeming completely unware that he was doing it. Then Remy groaned, writhing, and Spencer blinked himself back into awareness. He gave himself a little squeeze before he rose and crossed the room, moving to stand between Logan and Remy’s knees, staring down at the Cajun, and the shudders running through his frame. 

Logan grinned up at Spencer, who gave him a little smile in return, then bent over and captured Remy’s quivering lips with his own, moaning softly as he tasted the other man, slowly sliding his tongue in and out of Remy’s mouth. Remy gasped, startled, and moved to grip Spencer, but Logan snarled and hooked his arms in Remy’s elbows, holding him firmly captive. When Spencer drew back, Remy let out a soft cry of anguish, eyelids fluttering.

“Oh, cher… s’il t’ plait… merde… Ohhh…” Logan grinned at Remy’s desperate plea and rolled his hips, bringing a sharp gasp and cry from the Cajun. Smiling, Spencer trailed his lips down Remy’s throat and across his pronounced collar bone, and then dipped down and took a nipple between his lips, suckling softly. Remy let out a sob as this was done in conjuncture with Logan slowly taking up a teasing rhythm beneath him. It was just enough movement to massage Remy’s inner walls, to send tingles of pleasure through his body but not enough to begin to bring him towards climax. His chest rose and fell with his deep panting, and his body shivered as he listened to Spencer’s soft mewls and sighs as he continued to lavish delicious attentions to Remy’s nipples, even as his finger tips stroked over his trembling flanks.

Then Spencer was sliding down, lips and tongue leaving a wet trail down Remy’s chest. He stopped at his abdomen, nuzzling into it and running his fingers down the thin trail of auburn hair that started just below his navel. His fingers danced back up, circled his navel and then began to move down once more, lightly tugging at the hairs as they went, cause the muscles in Remy’s abdomen to twitch, even as he cried out to the ceiling once more…

Then, fingertips ghosted over his erection, barely touching, sending shivers up Remy’s spine. He squirmed in Logan’s unbreakable grip, sobbing as he felt the hot breath on his penis, and then he arched back and let out a high keen as Spencer nuzzled his scrotum before placing his tongue flat against the underside of the base of his erection before slowly dragging it all the way up to the tip, where he lapped at the pre-ejaculatory fluids that were dribbling, and then delicately suckling at the slit as more welled up.

Logan watched with a toothy grin, still restraining Remy’s arms, though Remy was starting to move his hips now, seeking more stimulation from Logan’s erection. Logan wouldn’t let him, though… that would come later. For now, he allowed his presence inside of Remy’s body to remain a subtle pleasure in the background of what Spencer was now doing. Remy’s entire body was trembling now, and he had thrown his head back again, crying out with every exhale as Spencer slowly took his length into his mouth, sliding up and down and going further each time.

He was gasping out unintelligible pleas now, shivers running up and down his body as Spencer took his scrotum in hand and began to squeeze and massage until he felt them tighten, and Remy tensed… and then Spencer moved away, suspending all physical contact. Remy let out a horrified sob, thrashing in Logan’s grip as he was denied the orgasm that had been within his reach.

He gasped softly and his eyelids fluttered at the soft breath on his ear, and then Spencer whispered, “I want you inside of me when you cum…”

An almighty shudder ran through Remy at that, and he swore and writhed in Logan’s grip when Spencer moved over to the bed, turned his back to them, bent over and spread his legs, presenting himself to his lovers as he began to prepare himself. And God, he was making all sorts of delicious noises. Remy arched against Logan’s grip on him with a whine, staring at Spencer in desperation.

“Ya want’im, Cajun?” Came the low growl that sent a sharp sizzle through Remy’s nerves. “He’s getting’ himself ready fer ya… he wants ta feel ya… all of ya… How many times are ya gonna make ‘im cum, Gambit?”

Remy was fighting against Logan’s hold now, his lust crazed mind wild and untamed and hungering for his lover’s body. Over the telepathic link, Logan gave Spencer a warning before he finally let go. Remy let out a cry as he lost Logan’s presence inside of his body as he launched himself for Spencer, who had turned and opened his arms to accept him. The pair fell to the bed, their mouths meshed against one another, panting, gasping, moaning, licking, tasting, sucking, kissing… their tongues dueled, their teeth clashed, and then Spencer ripped away with a hoarse shout as Remy breeched his defenses and stabbed deep into him and then began to just, oh fuck, he just started to GRIND into him, pinning Spencer’s wrists down hard enough to bruise, desperate sobs tearing out of his heaving chest as he fought to claim his pleasure. 

Spencer was the one writhing now, groaning as his prostate was just rubbedrubbedRUBBED and it was oh, so good!

And then Logan was there, dark and rumbling and rough and brutish, he seized Remy’s hips and slammed into him, and Remy screamed, slumping down on Spencer and crying into his ear as he throbbed and pulsed and filled Spencer with his semen. And the cries continued, becoming much more frenzied as the feral mutant held Remy’s hips in a bruising grip and pounded into him… he gave no quarter, leaving Remy a thrashing, howling creature of sex and lust and desire, his mind exploding and imploding all at once as he gave in to his desires to claim and be claimed. And then Spencer was screaming, mon dieu, he was screaming and begging and crying his name oh, so beautifully, and Remy wanted to answer but he couldn’t. He could only cry out into the room, wordless, primitive, only emotion and sensation and oh FUCK!!!

Everything was spinning… the world was falling away, and it was just warm, humming darkness enveloping him and he just…

Floated…

~*~

“… Jesus.” Logan croaked, staring at the ceiling.

“Shit, Logan…” Spencer panted, and slowly, Logan turned and looked at him. Spencer turned and opened his eyes meeting his gaze. Then, wordlessly, they both turned and looked at Remy.

Remy lay sprawled on his back, his hands resting palm up beside his head, his legs splayed open and hanging off the edge of the bed. His hair was spread out over the bedspread and some of it was sticking to his face, which was turned towards Logan, cheeks rosy after their exertions. His eyes were closed and his swollen lips were parted as he sucked in each breath, trying to catch his wind, making his chest rise and fall deeply. His body was flushed and had a sheen of sweat, and his spent member fell limp on his thigh.

“… Rems?” Logan called, pushing the boy’s hair from his face. Remy made no response. Spencer raised his eyebrows.

Logan slowly sat up, looking the Cajun over, then lowered his head to nuzzle at his flaccid penis, licking at it. Remy was taken over by an almighty shudder and he moaned, twitching, and then trying to roll away from the touch that was just, oh, too much for his hypersensitive body… too much…

Logan grinned and chuckled, while Spencer just stared.

“… Damn!” The youngest of the trio finally blurted, and Logan barked out a laugh, sliding his hands under Remy’s knees and behind his shoulders, lifting the young man from the bed and cradling him against his chest.

“Turn down the blakets, darlin’… he’s gonna get cold real quick.” The feral pointed out, and with a wince, Spencer sat up and moved to do so, before heading into the bathroom to clean himself of his own semen, spattered over his chest and belly. Logan lay Remy down in the middle of the bed, gently getting him comfortable before resting his hand possessively on Remy’s lower abdomen, grinning at the knowledge that his mate was full of his seed…

“… again?”

He shook himself and turned to smirk at Spencer, who was giving him a wry look as he slid into the bed. Completely unapologetic, he just shrugged and said “it’s an alpha feral thing.”

“You’re impossible.” Spencer sighed, shaking his head and moving to snuggle up to Remy, who had yet to wake.

But wake he did, finally, to feel gentle hands stroking up and down his chest and stomach, and fingers running through his hair and a hand caressing his cheek.

He slowly opened his eyes with a sigh, taking a moment to focus. He found himself staring up into the Wolverine’s face.

“Hey…” Logan murmured. “Ya with us?”

“… Wolvie?”

“He knows who we are. That’s a good first step.” Logan grinned over at Spencer, who rolled his eyes.

“Are you alright, Remy?” Spencer asked, sitting up and looking down at him.

“… Can’t move, me.” Came the tiny murmured response, making Logan chuckle.

“That was one fuckin’ helluva climax there, Gumbo. Think we all passed out and, uh… pretty sure the whole house felt it. I vaguely seem to remember a crash and a couple screams…” He grinned and chuckled. “Don’t think Warren fuckin’ missed THAT!!!”

Remy blinked, and while Spencer looked mortified, Remy allowed a weak grin to overtake his features, and chortled softly.

“Show dat arrogant bird brain a t’ing o’ two, oui…?”

“Did we?” Logan asked, slipping his hand between Remy’s legs and stroking his length. Remy cried out weakly, his body giving another big shudder, and he recoiled. “Still sensitive, eh?”

“Mon dieu… dat was… merde…”

Then, their minds were invaded… or at least Logan and Remy’s minds were… Spencer’s remained, as always, impervious.

‘Was that really necessary?!’

‘Desole, Professor…’ Remy answered, contritely. 

‘Damn straight it was, Chuck,’ Logan snorted. ‘Though the uh… empathic explosion was NOT my intention…’

‘… We’ll discuss it later.’ Xavier grumped.

‘No we ain’t. We ain’t discussin’ our sex life with anyone. But uh… feel free ta have a chat with Worthington about tha consequences of accusing Gambit of have performance issues and erectile dysfunction, huh?’

If someone could telepathically splutter, Charles Xavier was doing it right at that moment, as Remy burst into exhausted giggles over Logan’s response. Xavier quickly withdrew from their minds, and Logan mentally replayed the conversation for Spencer, who groaned and buried his face into his pillow.

“Ah, dat made dis Cajun’s night…” Remy finally sighed, before letting out a big yawn, rolling over and snuggling down against Spencer in the bed. Smirking, Logan smiled down at his two mates, admiring them curled up around one another for a moment before joining them, letting one thick arm drape over their slender waists. Then, snuffling softly, he buried his face into Remy’s hair, feeling that the Cajun was already well on his way to Neverland… Logan was quiet content to follow, after savoring the thought of Warren having to face Remy in the morning…

And to think, all it took to trigger all of this fun was one word.

ONE. WORD.

Remy LeBeau, the Ragin’ Cajun, Le Diable Blanc, The King of Thieves, Gambit himself… accused of being impotent.

Remy Etienne LeBeau.

Impotent…

Hah.


	6. Arachnophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Spencer and Logan learn that Remy doesn't likes spiders. Spencer learns to be more careful about poking around in other peoples' minds... Everyone learns WHY Remy doesn't like spiders... and no one can blame him... Spencer and Logan are feeling the guilt...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING!!! If you cannot stomach spiders, you may want to skip this chapter. You have been warned, so flames will NOT be tolerated. They'll just make you look like a complete moron, anyway. There's nothing quite like the stupidity of someone who leaves a review complaining about something that a warning was posted for. So in other words... don't be the douche who looks like the one that natural selection is just WAITING pounce on...

It was a lovely late afternoon in the Xavier School for Higher Learning… Students were doing homework. Ororo was working in the garden… Scott was finishing up a business call and Xavier was playing chess with Hank McCoy. Several of the X-Men were in the living room, watching television. And in the kitchen, Remy LeBeau was overseeing Logan chopping vegetables with his claws, while Spencer was measuring out herbs and spices, as Remy had verbally listed out for him.

“Non, Logan… don’t CHOP de onion… DICE de onion!”

“I’m gonna dice YOU, Gumbo.”

“Jus’ tryin’ t’ make dis right!”

“I am NOT happy ya just volunteered us fer this, Cajun...”

“Aw, c'mon, Wolvie... everybody do deir part, oui?”

Spencer grinned over at his two lovers. “It's kind of fun, Logan, come on... And Remy is a good cook, we at least have him to help us.” Remy grinned and winked at Spencer, who smiled back. Logan, however, grumbled.

“If I knew we were cookin' tonight, this isn't what I'd choose ta cook.”

Remy rolled his eyes and move to the stove, grabbing some olive oil and a pan. “Oh, branch out a lil, Logan! Not every meal can be steak an’ potatoes! Learn some new t'ings! Dis gon be deli-- WAAAAAAH!!!! FILS DE PUTAIN!!! OH HELL NON!!!” Spencer and Logan both jumped and whirled at the startling shout, and the pan clattering to the floor. And then they watched as Remy virtually flew off of the floor and up onto the kitchen counter.

And then, in a panicked, vicious tone, Remy screamed, “KILL IT!!!! MOTHERFUCKIN KILL IT, LOGAN!!!!!!!

Spencer and Logan turned, and watched a little spider running across the kitchen floor

Spencer blinked. “Um…”

Logan grinned, and biting back a laugh, he asked, “Really, Cajun? Really?

Spencer sighed, looking back and forth between the spider, and Remy up on the counter. “Rems… You laugh in the faces of Magneto, Apocalypse, Sinister... the FoH... and you're scared of a little wolf spider?”

Remy shot him a nearly maniacal glare. His breathes coming in rough pants, he hissed, “KILL. IT. NOW!!!”

“Wow…” Logan chuckled, and looked at Spencer. “... I don't get it... Why the hell would he be scared of spiders? Why would ANYONE! They’re just spiders!”

Spencer immediately perked up, and Remy, panicking on the counter, glared when he was virtually ignored. 

“Well, some people think that arachnophobia is a primitive instinct that has stuck with us through our evolution, and some people think it's simply cultural. Did you know, that someone with arachnophobia literally sees the spider as being BIGGER than people who aren't afraid of them?!:

“Really?” Logan asked casually, getting a beer from the fridge, carefully stepping OVER the spider to do so. 

Remy narrowed his eyes and growled “... I fuckin hate you bot' so much right now...”

Spencer continued, “Also, when watching a spider come closer to them, people who are afraid of them perceive them as coming closer, faster, than someone who isn't afraid...”

Logan chuckled at that, popping the top off of his beer and taking a drink.

The bottle cap went flying, and startling the hell out of Spencer and Logan, Remy leapt across the kitchen, snatching the cap out of thin air, and landing on the kitchen table. Then he whirled and flung the bottle cap, glowing bright pink. Spencer yelped and leapt back when it struck the floor with a small explosion and… obliterated the wolf spider…

Logan, his beer bottle halfway to his mouth, stared at Remy, and Spencer looked alarmed. Remy slowly turned and glared at them, his eyes blazing in rage. “Fuck y' bot'...” He hissed, shaking. “Y’ can bot’ go t’ hell!”

“Remy, come on now…” Spencer sighed, regret in his tone. “I’m sorry, I—“

“Wait...” Remy gasped, his eyes on the floor. “Wait… what is...” And then, his eyes widened and he let out a high pitched scream, flying from the table to the counter again, and looked as though he were trying to climb the wall, howling loudly in a broken mess of unintelligible Cajun.

Spencer and Logan looked down, and Spencer brightened immediately, kneeling down.

“Oh... looks like it was a breeding female!” He exclaimed in his geeky little excitement.

Logan glanced up at Remy, chuckling. “Awwww... lookit all the baby spiders! An' y' went and killed their mama, Cajun. Nice.” And then he looked down. “How many, Spencer?”

“Hmmm… Hard to tell... They keep moving so fast! But there could be up to fifty...”

Remy, in the meantime, kept screaming at them as he scrambled across the countertops and ended up on top of the refrigerator, sending several snacks that were stored up there flying off and onto the floor.

“Maudit sois-tu tant à l'enfer ! Je vous hais ! Tue les! Sortez-les d'ici! Va au diable!”

“Watch yer mouth, Cajun…” Logan snickered.

“FUCK YOU, WOLVERINE!!!”

“Alright, I can't take it anymore...” They all turned when Jean walked in, fighting back a grin. “Logan, stop being cruel. Although I WOULD expect it from Logan, I’m surprised at YOU, Spencer…” And she gave him a scolding look, that changed into an amused grin when Spencer looked embarrassed and contrite. And then she said, “Calm down, Remy. I’ve got your back.” And she winked up at him before turning and holding out her hands. 

Remy’s eyes dilated and he watched carefully as the scattering baby spiders were suddenly swept up and went sliding across the floor. The door out onto the patio swung open and the spiders were gently brushed out. The door then closed.

“Alright. You’re safe now. Why don’t you come down now, Remy. And… I promise not to tell anyone.” Then she frowned slightly. “Remy? You okay, honey? You look pale…”

“… T’ink Remy gon’ be sick, Jeannie…” Remy whimpered, slowly making his way back down to the floor. Logan snickered and Spencer bit down on his lip, trying to fight back a smile.

Jean gave them a look, saying “That’s enough… You two be nice and take Remy upstairs. I'll finish dinner.”

“Non, Jeannie… Remy finish…” The Cajun groaned, landing on the floor. But then he froze at the clearing of a throat. Slowly, he, Logan, Jean and Spencer turned and looked at Bobby, standing in the doorway. 

“Uh, hi. So… Um, Jean... I know you promised not to tell anyone about Gambit screaming like a girl, but uh... did you really think that no one HEARD that?!” And then, to Remy’s horror, Scott, Alex, Betsy, Warren and Jubilee peeked in from around Bobby, all grinning.

“Oh…” Jean sighed, and Remy narrowed his eyes and growled.

“Oh, dat's it... blowin' dis whole fuckin' house sky-high, me...” The Cajun snarled, clenching his fists. “... An' every fuckin' spider in it...”

“Alright, Cajun, that’s enough.” Logan sighed, grabbing Remy’s wrist and forcing a beer into his hand before turning and pushing him towards the door. “Let’s grab a smoke.”

But Remy let out a shriek and spun away from Logan. “Are y’ kiddin’ me?! Dere’s SPIDERS out dere!!!”

Spencer let his face fall into his hand as everyone burst out laughing.

“Whoa whoa whoa…” Logan chuckled, tackling Remy when the beer bottle began to glow. “Take it back, Rems… Take it back.” As soon as the glow was gone, Logan took the bottle from him and set it on the counter, and with an arm around him, he steered Remy out of the room and past the other X-Men, Remy cursing under his breath the whole way. Spencer followed.

Up in their room, Remy roughly shoved Logan off and dropped onto the sofa, curling up in the corner of it. Logan sighed and rolled his eyes, but Spencer walked over and sat beside Remy, turning to face him and sliding his feet under Remy’s feet. Remy, who usually found it cute that Spencer would try to warm cold toes under Remy’s feet, just glared. 

Spencer cocked his head. “Why are you afraid of spiders?” He asked, and Remy narrowed his eyes. “I just… never believed that… YOU, of all people… would be afraid of SPIDERS!”

“YOU be afraid of de dark, cher.” Remy pointed out.

“Yes. I am. But… why spiders?”

“… Dey give Remy de creeps!”

“Why?”

“Gotta have a reason, me? Dey got way too many legs, dey be hairy an’ creepy an’ just… uhg!” Logan snickered, and Remy glared. “Shut up, Wolvie! Don’t y’ go t’inkin’ dat y’ gon’ be getting’ any fo’ at LEAST a mont’!”

“What?!” Logan blurted. Remy narrowed his eyes, and allowed Logan to FEEL his anger. Logan winced.

“Go shower, Logan.” Spencer said calmly. Logan glared, but headed to the bathroom, muttering. Spencer smiled slightly, amused, before turning back to Remy. “Anyway… why spiders?”

“Why de dark?”

“Because of the inherent absence of light!”

“B’cause o’ de eight hairy legs! An’ de pincers!” And Remy pantomimed pincers by his mouth with his index fingers. Spencer quirked a brow. “An’ eight eyes! EIGHT!!! Dey ain’t natural!” Spencer sighed.

“Any less natural than us?”

“Hehn?”

“Mutants.”

“… Dat ain’t fair.” Remy pouted, and smiling, Spencer scooted closer, now sliding his feet under Remy’s backside, his legs between Remy’s legs.

“… y’ toes be cold, Spencer.” Remy complained. 

“And your butt is warm.”

“Pfft! Remy’s ass ain’t warm! It be hot as hell!” He declared, grinning and throwing Spencer a wink. Spencer grinned.

“Only you…” He sighed, leaning forwards. Remy grinned back and met him, and the pair shared a quick kiss. “So. Hairy legs. Logan has hairy legs.”

“Logan ain’t got EIGHT hairy legs!”

“So what bugs you? The number of legs themselves, or that they’re hairy?”

“Spencer…” Remy sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Y’ ain’t gon’ be able t’ break dis down an’ fix de fact dat Gambit don’t like spiders. Everyt’ing ‘bout dem creep me out! Ain’t jus’ de eight legs, de eyes, de pincers… it be de way dey move… de way dey… catch somet’in in deir web an’… wrap it up an… eugh…” She shook his head as a shudder ran through him. “De way y’ move somet’in’ an’ find one under it, an’ it goes runnin, scarin’ de hell outta y’, cuz y’ wasn’t expectin’ it… De way dey crawl all over y’! De way dey—“

“Crawl all over you?” Spencer pounced on those words. “When did they crawl all over you?”

“Oh, hell non…” Remy said, anxiety coming off of him in waves now as he untangled his legs from Spencer and got off of the sofa, backing away. 

“Remy, what happened?!”

“Ain’t talkin’ bout it, me!”

“Remy, come on!” Spencer pleaded, standing and following him. Logan appeared in the doorway in a towel and watched as Remy seemed to get more and more upset. “Show me.”

“… quoi?!”

“Show me…” Spencer said again, and Remy felt Spencer’s mind pushing into his own… 

“Oh, non, cher, s’il t’ plait… don’t wanna…” He whined, then gasped when warm arms enveloped him, and he was guided down to lie on the bed by Logan’s hands.

“Let Spencer in, Cajun…” Came the soft rumble, as Spencer eased himself further into Remy’s mind. Logan watched as Remy whimpered softly, and then let his eyes slide closed as his body went limp. Then Spencer was lying down beside him and curling up against him. Logan just sat over them, lovingly running a hand over Remy’s hair…

~*~

The child scampered into an alley, fleeing an angry restaurant customer and a waiter… He had run down the street past a little café, and stolen someone’s sandwich right off of the plate as the waiter sat it down on the table. Now he darted through side alleys and scrambled under a fence before he made his way into one of the old cemeteries. And there, he plopped himself down amongst the bushes behind an old mausoleum, and tore into the sandwich. 

Seven year old Remy groaned and let his eyes closed as he savored the hot, delicious blackened chicken sandwich with a sharp, spicy Cajun sauce… It was hot, and it felt incredible in his empty belly. He wanted to take it slow and enjoy it, but one of the first lessons he learned on the streets was that if you had food, eat it fast. If another kid could take if from you, they would. And so, even if it made him feel sick, he would eat as much as he could as fast as he could, and then fight like hell to keep it down.

He had finished his sandwich by the time he was found… he knew someone had to have seen him as he fled, and sure enough, four older boys now stood over him, glaring down at his glowing red eyes in the shadows of the bushes.

“… Any left?” One of the boys asked, and Remy shook his head, then gasped as he was grabbed by the hair and dragged out of his hiding spot.

“You know de rules, Remy…” Snapped the oldest. “Y’ give us half o’ everyt’ing.”

“Remy was hungry…” The seven year old street thief cried, tears welling up in his eyes as he was surrounded.

“… But y’ broke de rules… still… dat was a pretty sweet steal…” The older boy said, smirking. “T’ink we can work somet’ing out… come on!” And he turned and ran off the other boys following. After a moment, he called back “C’mon, Remy!”

The seven year old stared after them for a moment, and then followed, hope fluttering in his little heart that maybe, just maybe, these boys would be willing to take him in… to be his friends… they could work together. Protect each other… Remy had seen little packs of other kids on the street work like this, but he had never been allowed in any of them. And God, how he wanted to be… safety in numbers, after all… if this was his chance, he wasn’t going to blow it.

It was a long trek, especially for a small, underdeveloped, malnourished seven year old boy. But the older boys, between twelve and fifteen, didn’t seem to care. They yelled at the child to hurry up. They made their way out of town and into the bayou… Remy wasn’t afraid of the place… he had grown up both in the city and in the swamp. But he was still nervous.

The boys all stopped at an old, fallen tree. 

“So… Remy.” Said the oldest, turning around. “Let’s talk about how you broke the rules.” Remy yelped as he was shoved to the wet ground.

“D-Desole…” He gasped, fear suddenly surging through him as he realized that he had made a mistake, trusting these boys. “Remy was jus’ hungry… ain’t eaten all day… S’il vous plait… won’t do it again, me!”

“No. You won’t. Because y’ ain’t gonna work MY territory again, y’hear?!” The oldest boy snapped. “I see y’ in my space again, an’ bein’ hungry gon’ be de least o’ y’ worries! Toss ‘im!” And the other boys grabbed Remy, who screamed and struggled as he was lifted off of the ground. They lifted him over the fallen tree, and his eyes widened… it was rotted, and the open hollow that was left was filled with… webs… 

Remy let out a shriek as he fell into the hollow, through the webs and into the soft, rotting wood and leaves of the bayou. The scent of decay enveloped him, as did the webs… and then he felt them… 

The spiders… 

Their spindly legs crawled over his skin… he could feel them tangled in his hair… under his clothes… everywhere. Laughter rang through the bayou, a disturbing undertone to the terrified screams of a small child…

Remy didn’t know how long he was in there… he fought to get out for hours, and it felt like it was forever before he was able to climb out of the tree’s hollow… even as he fell out and onto the wet ground, he was wrapped in the wet and ruined webs, crawling with the tiny creatures that had made them. He threw up all over the ground and staggered to his feet, screaming as he tried to tear away the spiders, their webs, and finally, in desperation, he stripped himself naked and stumbled into the cold, putrid waters of the swamp. He began to scrub himself, sobbing hysterically as he ran his fingers through his tangled hair.

When he staggered out of the water, he was still sobbing, punctuated by hiccups. He stared down at his naked body… he couldn’t see anything… no spiders… but God, he could FEEL them. Hysterical, he just ran…

The swamp was dark as the sun had begun to set… He didn’t know the place… he was lost. He ran through the bayou, sick, naked, scared and confused. Eventually, he sunk to the ground and curled up at the base of an old tree, his eyes staring at the fireflies until he fell into an exhausted sleep…

But it wasn’t long before he was ripped out of that by his own screams, brought on by nightmares of being trapped in the dark, with webs and spiders and cruel laughter in response to his cries for help. And then he heard something…

“Who be dere?!” He gasped and jerked, eyes widening in fear. He looked around wildly, and then saw the light… there was a light on the water… it was a pirogue… a small boat being poled along by a small, round woman with dark skin. It bumped the shore and the women held up a propane lantern, looking around.

“Who’s dere?” Then the light fell on him, and he heard the gasp. “Mere de Dieu…oh, mon Dieu…” And she rushed over, falling to her knees. “What happened t’ you, child?!” She cried, removing her shawl and flinging it around the small boy. “Are y’ hurt?!” Remy just stared at her, his eyes glassy. “Oh… Le Diable Blanc…” She whispered to herself. “Jean Luc’s boy…” She saw immediately… the poor child was traumatized, and possibly in shock. “Well… y’ will be, one day…” And then she gathered the child into her arms and spoke louder.

“Shhh… gon’ be alright, child… what be y’ name?”

He blinked up at her. “… R-Remy…” He murmured, sounding confused.

“Shhh… s’alrigh’, Remy, child… Mattie gon’ take care o’ you… Y’ Tante gon’ make sure y’ be alrigh’… Now… let’s get y’ outta de bayou… get y’ clean, fed an’ rested. An’ we see ‘bout some clothes, oui?” She asked, clamoring into her little boat. She laid the little boy down on several burlap sacks in the bow and tucked her shawl around him. And then, she poled the boat along through the bayou, her way lit by the lantern. And she watched Remy, rocked by the boat, drift into sleep.

~*~

Logan had his eyes closed, as he saw this memory through Spencer… And he frowned when the image suddenly twisted and changed… The hum of insects in the bayou changed to the hum of machinery… soft lapping of the water against the hull of the little boat turned into the soft sounds of tools against tools… tools on flesh… The feeling of exhaustion was replaced by the feeling of drugs… And then, the soft singing of Mattie was taken over by a cold, cruel chuckle…

“What a memory to have…”

Eyes cracked open, and Remy nearly whined at the sharp pain of bright white light stabbing into his photosensitive eyes… but then the face above him moved into clarity, and a cold, utter dread filled him as he stared at the mildly amused face of Sinister…

“Don’t care for spiders after that, I take it…” The man stated, simply. “What an interesting experiment that could be…”

“W-Whah…?” A more adult Remy slurred, straining against the restraints that were holding him down to the cold, metal table. Sinister reached out and rested a hand on Remy’s head, and the Cajun let out a strained whine of pain when the man forced his way into his head. 

“Can you feel them, LeBeau?” He heard the geneticist ask, almost absently. And then, he felt something… The tiny little pinpricks on his skin… from tiny little legs… and they were spreading… Where were they coming from?! They were all over him, covering him, crawling from everywhere!

“Non… non… Dieu! S’il vou plat, non!!!” He began to cry, thrashing. 

“Go ahead… look…” Sinister sneered, a cruel grin on his features. Already on the verge of hyperventilating, Remy, only eighteen, lifted his head and looked down. And his eyes widened. His abdominal cavity was wide open… Held open by frightening, spider-like surgical tools… giving Sinister full access to his internal organs… to… play with…

But Remy had seen it before… it didn’t scare him…

But now… Oh God… Spiders…

There were spiders crawling out of him! Creeping out of the incision, where his adomen was filled with webs, beaded with blood… And now they were emerging and crawling over him!

Sinister grinned in sadistic satisfaction as Remy screamed…

~*~

Spencer and Logan jerked as Remy bolted upright, screaming.

“Remy! REMY!!!” Logan yelped, catching the young man and keeping him from fleeing the room. “Spencer?!”

The younger was sitting up, his eyes wide. “I… they… they were repressed memories… he knew they were there… he probably gets flashes when he sees spiders, but… Oh God…”

“Remy!” Logan called as he was elbowed in the eye. “Shit…” He could hear commotion as people came running in response to Gambit’s hysterical screams. But then he was loose. Logan cursed and lunged, but Remy evaded him and burst through the door and into the hall, radiating an intense fear and panic. Several of the X-Men that had been responding to the screams had to stop and try and fortify themselves before they got closer. Emma, Betsy and Jean were the only ones able to approach him immediately.

“Remy?! Remy what is it?!” Jean was calling, even as Besty tackled the panicking Cajun to the floor. Then Spencer was in the hall shouting “repressed memories! I… I let them out!”

“Damn…” Emma breathed, helping Betsy pin Remy down.

“Someone help us!” Betsy cried, and then a cold wind blew over them all… then then Gambit’s wrists and ankles were encased in ice, and he was frozen to the floor.

“Into his mind, Spencer. GO!” Xavier called as he approached.

“What?! But… But I don’t know how to—“

“GO!!!” 

And with that command, Spencer turned, looked at Remy and did what he had never done before… he threw his consciousness fully into Remy’s head…

~*~

Spencer opened his eyes, and looked around. He blinked… Wasn’t this… Jean Luc’s house?

“You did it.” He turned, and stared. Xavier was there, with Jean. Jean was the one who had spoken, and was smiling. “Impressive. With only theoretical knowledge…”

“You gave very good explanations on how to enter someone’s mindscape…” Spencer nodded, and looked around. “But… where is Remy? Shouldn’t he be here? This IS his mind, right?”

“I’ve been here before…” Jean sighed. “He keeps it very guarded and… he… compartmentalizes. You don’t see what he doesn’t want you to see…” And she waved her hand to a door… Spencer turned and looked, and his eyes widened. It was battered and badly damaged, but had also been incredibly reinforced… it was lined in deadbolts and wrapped in chains with boards nailed over it and…

“He won’t let anyone in there…” Jean said. “Not after… Sinister forced his way in, once.”

“So… where is he?” Spencer asked, and Xavier sighed.

“At the risk of stealing a line from a… very popular book…” The man said. “… Follow the spiders.” Everyone looked down. And sure enough, spiders were scuttling across the floor and heading into a dark corridor… a door was hanging from its hinges, destroyed.

“… Did… I do that?” Spencer asked. 

“You didn’t know.” Xavier said. “Now you do. Let’s… follow the spiders…”

“Why spiders? Why can't it be follow the butterflies?” Jean asked, an amused look on her face.

“… Remy’s not afraid of butterflies…” Spencer reasoned, looking confused.

“It’s from the movie, Spencer.”

“Movie? What movie?”

“… Nevermind.” Jean sighed as Xavier chuckled. But then all three turned, and looked into the direction that the spiders were heading… down a dark hallway…

“Spencer, what did you uncover?” Xavier asked a they headed into the darkness. 

“Repressed memories.” Spencer sighed. “Remy’s afraid of spiders. He doesn’t know why, he just knows that he is. But he said something… about being covered in them. The way he said it… it just seemed… I went to see for myself and I found a memory…”

“Of?”

“He was… dumped into a mass spiders’ nest when he was little. Seven years old… he was stuck in there for hours, with the spiders all over him…”

“Oh, God…” Jean shuddered, wrapping her arms around herself.

“Sinister found the memory, too…” Spencer continued. “And used it to torture him… he… made Remy see and feel spiders all over him… inside of him…”

Xavier scowled. “Every time I think I’ve heard of the worst he’s done to Remy…” He sighed, trailing off.

“… Logan and I were… making fun of him…” Spencer mumbled, ashamed.

“You couldn’t have known, Spencer.” Xavier said.

“I know better than to just… treat someone’s fear like that. Me, of all people… with my own fears…

“Shh…” Jean breathed, and Spencer and Xavier stopped and listened. They heard it a moment later. Whimpers… pleas… soft sobs… 

“… Remy?” Spencer called, reaching a hand out and trying to call up a bit of light…

Nothing happened.

“Your powers don’t work in here…” Jean told him, pushing further into the darkness.

“Figures…” Spencer muttered, wrapping his arms around himself. 

“What?”

“… I unlocked Remy’s fear… and now, to fix it, I have to face my own…”

Xavier and Jean exchanged looks, but then followed Spencer into the darkness… it wasn’t long before they were surrounded by darkness… Spencer actually startled Jean when he fumbled for her hand and clasped it.

“Are you okay?”

“… I… I don’t… like the dark.” He muttered.

“What is that?” Xavier asked, and the trio moved forwards.

“… a string.” Jean observed, as they stared at a silvery strand that seemed to be emitting some kind of strange glow.

“No… a web.” Spencer corrected, his voice filled with foreboding. “Look…” They did. There were more strands. As they moved further, more and more appeared, until they were surrounded. The soft crying of a child was getting louder.

“Remy?” Spencer called, and a strange chittering answered him. “Remy?”

There was a soft whimper…

“Non… non… non… quelqu'un s'il vous plaît aidez-moi… S’il vous plait…”

“Remy?!” Spencer cried, and broke into a run. “Remy, where are you?!” Jean and Xavier followed, though almost as soon as they had started running, they were skidding to a stop again, nearly running into Spencer… And then they all just stared in utter horror…

Before them was a large web, and Remy was entangled within it… But it wasn’t their Remy… it was a seven year old child, his face streaked with tears and his body naked and helpless… and he had been cut open… a massive incision, running from crotch to throat, and spilling out were his own entrails… and countless, bloody web strands… as they watched, spiders were crawling in and out of his body… hanging from the open wound by bloody silken strands… and looming above was a massive arachnid… she looked to weigh near a ton, and long, hairy legs seemed to caress the small body of Remy, before he had taken on the name LeBeau…

“… Get away from him!” Spencer cried, leaping forwards as the overwhelming need to protect took over.

“Spencer!” Xavier gasped, as Spencer Reid went into a full, vicious attack mode. The spiders, all of them, seemed to move in, and little Remy screamed as he was swarmed, covered head to toe in spiders, wrapping him up in their gossamer strands like a fly to feed on at a later date.

“Jean!” Xavier called, and the pair began to attack with their telepathic powers, blasting the spiders back and away from the helpless child. Spencer, in the meantime, attacked with his hands, ripping the webs away from the one he loved, and throwing a punch at the massive spider as her pincers moved to sink into his flesh.

“GET AWAY!!!” He screamed, tearing Remy’s body away from the webs, even as he tore them out of the gaping wound. Then Jean and Xavier were there, and chaos reigned. Spencer cradled the child close, turned and dropped to his knees, bending and curling his body over and around Remy, holding him close, protecting him… 

He didn’t know how long the battle raged… but little by little, it began to quiet, and the darkness began to fade… 

“… Spencer?” He finally heard Xavier call, and slowly, he opened his eyes… he was back in Jean Luc’s house… in Remy’s room… crouched down on Remy’s bed. And then he looked down at the body in his arms…

The eviscerated child was gone… Now, the adult Remy was cradled in his arms. And he was unharmed.

“Remy?” Jean called, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“… Bring him out.” Xavier told Spencer, and faded away. Spencer blinked, and looked at Jean.

“Bring him out?”

“Wake him up.” Jean told him, and gave him a little smile. “We’ll see you soon…” And then she, too, faded. And Spencer looked down at Remy, before hugging him tightly.

“I’m sorry Remy… I’m so, so sorry…” And he kissed him, ever so gently.

“Please forgive me…”

~*~

When Spencer awoke, it was to find himself in bed.

“Spencer?”

“… Nnnh… Logan?”

“Thank God…” Logan gasped, letting out a whoosh of breath, as though he had been holding it for hours.

“… R-Remy…?”

“Right beside ya, darlin’… still waitin’ fer him ta wake up…”

“How long?”

“Coupla hours…” Logan shrugged. Slowly, Spencer struggle to sit up. He rubbed his eyes and then looked down. Remy was lying beside him, curled up tightly in the fetal position and shivering. He was drenched in sweat, and whimpering every now and then.

“Oh God…”

“It’s okay.” Jean assured Spencer, and he turned and looked at her. Emma, Betsy and Xavier were all there, along with Rogue, Scott and Ororo. 

“What didja do ta him?!” Rogue demanded to know, glaring at Spencer.

“I… I wanted to help him. I… had no idea that he was hiding something like that…”

“Like what?!” Rogue demanded.

“Shhh… that is not Spencer’s to tell…” Ororo soothed.

“But it was his to go in an’ see?!” Rogue demanded, standing.

“Enough.” Betsy said, firmly.

“No… she’s right.” Spencer murmured, brushing Remy’s bangs back from his face. “I… I never should have…” He trailed off, shaking his head. “He knew it was there. He knew he didn’t want to remember…”

“He let ya in, Spencer.” Logan reasoned.

“No, he just didn’t try to stop me! That does not mean that he… consented…” Spencer went pale then… “Oh God… Did… Did I—“

“Don’t say it.” Logan growled, leaning in and kissing him. 

“God… Remy?” Spencer called, distress thick in his tone.

“Nnh…”

“Remy? Please…”

“… hehn?” Remy groaned, and curled up tighter for a moment, before sucking in a breath and slowly blinking open his eyes. 

“Hey, darlin’.” Logan rumbled. “Welcome back…”

“S-Spencer?” Remy croaked.

“I’m here… I’m here Remy… God, I’m so sorry…”

“You… you came in… after Remy?”

“I never meant to unlock those memories…”

“Non, cher… s’alright…”

“No, it isn’t!” Spencer cried, and slowly, Remy uncurled and sat up, running a shaky hand through his hair.

“Merde…”

“Do… Do you remember?” Spencer asked.

“Oui…” Remy nodded, wincing and rubbing at his stomach, as though feeling sick. The he noticed everyone else in the room. “… Uh… we havin’ a party, mes amis?”

“I’m so sorry…”

“Stop.” Remy said, lifting a hand. “Got mem’ries dat’re worse, me…”

“What was it about these?” Logan asked.

“… Jus’ de… fear of a child…” Remy sighed, and smiled then. “Fo’got dat’s when I firs’ met m’ Tante…” He looked at Spencer. “Not all was bad… An’… some o’ de blocks… wasn’t Remy’s…”

“What?” Rogue asked, and Remy glanced up at her. 

“Sinister.” He admitted. “He found de memory first… used it against Remy. An’ hid it away when he wasn’t usin’ it. Had blocked it m’self when I was younger… but…”

“Spiders?” Scott asked, suddenly.

Remy sighed. “When Remy was seven, some ot’er street kids took him out t’ de bayou an’… dumped Remy in a hollow tree… was full o’ spiders. Took hours t’ get out…” Remy admitted. “Was… traumatized. Near unresponsive fo’ days, me. Tante Mattie found Remy naked in de swamp dat night an’ took care o’ him... Stayed wit’ her fo’ a few days ‘fore Remy went back onto de streets. Would stop by an’ see her every now an’ den afte’ dat. If de weather was really bad… o’ really cold… she’d let Remy sleep by de fire… Would bring her lil’ presents, me.” And he grinned. “An’ slowly… locked away de mem’ries o’ de spiders.” His grin faded. “Den Sinister ripped t’rough Remy’s mind an’ found it… an’ used it ‘gainst Remy… Had… cut Remy open. Takin’ tissue samples an’… pokin’ around… den went pokin’ round in Remy’s head… made Remy see… spiders crawling out of his body…”

“Oh mah God…” Rogue gasped, and Ororo lifted a hand to her face, her eyes wide in horror.

“Remy always been scared o’ spiders…” Remy sighed. “Jus’… didn’t know why. Now, Remy remembers.”

“I’m so sorry!” Spencer whimpered.

“S’alright, Spencer. Actually, kinda be nice t’ know Gambit actually got a REASON t’ be scared…”

“Now that we know where the fear comes from,” Xavier announced, “perhaps, we can help you move past it.”

“… Maybe.” Remy mumbled.

“Not tonight, Charles.” Emma said calmly. “I think Gambit needs to rest. And I think the boys need to… talk.”

“Damn straight we do.” Logan snorted.

“… We’ll leave you, then.” Xavier nodded. “Goodnight.” And the little group slowly filed out of the room.

Finally, Logan, Spencer and Remy were alone. And they all sat there, not looking at each other.

“… Uhg. Need a shower, me…” Remy grumbled, and moved to get out of bed, stumbling as he did so. Immediately, Logan and Spencer were there, catching him with gentle hands, steadying him…

“… Y’all got not’in’ t’ be sorry for…” Remy murmured, looking bemused.

“We made fun of ya, Rems…” Logan explained, not meeting Remy’s gaze. Remy was stunned at the guilt he felt coming off of his lovers.

“… I f’give y'…” He said softly, watching as Spencer began to run the bath. “It be alrigh’ Wolvie… Nightlight… Guess it was kinda silly… actually… really embarrassed, me… Y’ be right… Gambit… scared o’ spiders. It’s… humiliatin’.”

“It’s an incredibly common thing.” Spencer stated as he checked the bathwater while Logan began to undress Remy. “Up to 20% of the population have a fear of spiders.” He turned and gave Remy a pathetic look. “And less than that, at least among adults, are afraid of the dark…”

“… what YOU be scared of, Wolvie?” Remy asked, suddenly. Logan made a double take. 

“Hell no, Cajun. Get in the tub.” And before Remy knew it, he was in the tub and being pampered like never before! He sighed in immense relaxation as gentle, loving hands bathed every inch of him… As Spencer washed his hair, Logan massaged his feet! Then Logan disappeared while Spencer gently washed Remy’s face, the pair staring into each other’s eyes the whole time. 

When Remy was clean, Logan returned and Remy moaned as he was wrapped in a warm, fluffy towel fresh out of the dryer… And then dried off by those same loving hands, and dressed in equally warm pajamas. And then, he was tucked into a bed with clean sheets and a comforter, again, fresh from the dryer. Then he was left alone for a few minutes while Spencer went to bathe, and Logan ran off into the house somewhere… he returned a bit later with food, as they had missed dinner.

Then Remy found himself propped up against pillows, and being handfed little tidbits, before resting on his chest and enjoying a thorough back massage. And finally, when the lights were out and he was enveloped in the physical, and emotional embrace of his lovers, Remy sighed and murmured, “Nightlight? If dis be what Remy gets when y’ unlock repressed memories… Feel free t’ unlock a few mo'…”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Several weeks later found Spencer back in Quantico, and the X-Men infiltrating an old warehouse; they had learned that several high ranking members of the FoH were having a meeting… they crept through the rafters, observing the meeting below them… Remy sat silently between Iceman and Wolverine, intent on the meeting. But then, he heard Logan suck in a breath. Remy looked at him.

“Don’t look!” Logan hissed, his gaze staring past Remy. Of course, when Remy LeBeau is told not to look, what’s the first thing that he does? 

That’s right. He looks.

Remy turned, and froze. His hand was resting on an old, wooden beam. And a very large spider was right next to it… and crawling towards him.

“Shit! Don’t scream!” Iceman gasped, eyes wide. Remy forced himself to take a deep breath.

“Ain’t gon’ scream, me…” He gasped and, hand shaking, he slowly moved and curled his middle finger against his thumb and—

Flick!

They all watched as the spider went flying, casting out a few strands of web as it went. And then, they just watched as the spider floated down…

The seven members of the FoH froze and looked up at the sudden movement, and watched as the spider drifted down and landed with a soft plop! In the middle of their table. And then, it began to run.

Instantly, five members of the FoH screamed and leapt from their chairs.

“Holy shit!” Remy hissed gleefuly, watching as one seized a file folder and brought it slamming down on the spider, over and over and over again. Two of the members were doing a fantastic little dance of panic around the room, and the two still seated, just stared at their comrades in shock.

“… We’re trying to take on mutants…” One of them drawled. “And you guys are freaking out over a fuckin’ SPIDER?!?”

Slowly, they all returned to their seats as the dead spider was brushed onto the floor.

“… if it means getting rid of all spiders…” One man hissed. “I’ll take the fuckin’ muties!”

“Awww… Gambit be touched…” Remy chuckled into his comm, and the other X-Men snickered, quietly.

“You’re pathetic.” Groaned the other FoH leader who hadn’t leapt to his feet.

“Hey Scotty…” Remy hissed then. “Permission t’ have a bit o’ fun ‘fore we put de hurt on ‘em?”

“… This ought to be good…” Cyclops chuckled. “Permission granted.”

Remy grinned then, leaned over and whispered to IceMan, who grinned broadly. "Yeah... I can do that..."

“Oh, what the devil are they up to?” Betsy sighed, seeing that.

“I shudder to think.” Warren grumbled, rustling his wings.

“Did you hear that?!” One of the FoH blurted, and they all looked up into the darkness of the rafters. Only to see another spider fly down and land on their table.

“Shit! Is this place infested?!” One of the panic-dancers cried.

“I don’t care what you guys say… better than mutants.” Sighed another, sweeping the spider off of the table with his folder.

Then, from the darkness, Remy hissed. “What about a SPIDER mutant?!”

One FoH member shuddered, blurting “Oh God, that would be—“ And then he stopped. "Wait... who--?!" Now they were all staring around with wide eyes. And then an eerie voice started to sing from over head, “Spider mutant… spider mutant… scariest shit in dis Goddamn world…” 

Giggles from the darkness around the ceiling.

“Who’s there?!” Cried one of the FoH, pulling a gun. Several spiders were drifting down from the darkness.

The singing returned. “De itsy bitsy spider, caught some assholes in ‘is web… De itsy bitsy spider, bit off de assholes’ heads!”

Rogue, Storm and Jubilee were fighting very hard not to burst into laughter at Remy’s sadistic fun. Cyclops actually had buried his face into Jean’s shoulder as he shook with repressed laughter.

“You’re not a fuckin’ spider!” Shouted one of the men below, pulling a gun. "So shut up!!!"

“Oh no?” The voice called. “Turn aroun'…” 

The FoH whirled… and stared at the massive, glittering spider web.

“AAAAAAAH!!!” One man shrieked, and flung a chair. The ice shattered.

“RUN!” Shouted another, as icy webs began to creep around the place

“Spiders' gonna EAT YA!!!” Came a shout, and a dark figure dropped to the floor and attacked. Three members of the FoH let out bloodcurdling screams and ran like hell. IceMan and Wolverine leapt into action, but Cyclops just sighed and called to the others, “hang back, they’ve got it…” And within seconds, it was over.

“… Very impressive, Bobby.” Betsy grinned as she stood on the floor, looking up at a man dangling upside down in an ice cocoon, face to face with a giant ice spider.

“Gambit’s idea.”

“Yer a sick fuck, Rems.” Logan was chuckling.

“Mais oui!” Remy agreed, proudly.

“That was… an interesting way to play that.” Cyclops admitted.

“Emphasis on ‘play’, I think...” Storm said, crossing her arms and giving Remy a look. The Cajun just grinned and shrugged.

“Does this mean you’re over your fear of spiders, then?” Warren asked, and Remy made a face.

“Pfft! Oh, Hell non… Spiders be creepy as fuck, man. If we EVER get a spider mutant in the de school, Remy quit!”

“Consider this my advance warning of that too.” Bobby blurted. Everyone turned and stared at him.

“… Don’t like spiders?” Remy asked.

“Hell no! Spiders are creepy as fuck, man!” Bobby blurted, repeating Remy’s words.

“I don’t like ‘em, either.” Jubilee spoke up. Betsy sighed, and raised her hand.

“Well… leas’ Remy be in good company…” The Cajun grinned. “Shall we? B’fore Remy actually got a spider on him?” And the four of them turned and began to walk away. The X-Men they left behind, just stared, horrified.

“Uh… Remy?” Logan called. “Uh… don’t move…”

Remy froze.

“… Why.” He demanded, his voice tense. “… Dere a spider on me?!”

“Don’t move.”

“WHERE?!”

“On yer head.”

“In my HAIR?!?!? Fils de putain! Get it get it GET IT!!!” Remy howled, unintentionally projecting his barely contained anxiety.

“Hold still, darlin’…” Logan sighed reaching up and plucking the spider from Remy’s auburn hair. “Alright. Yer safe.” Remy turned, staring at the spider in Logan’s hand. Logan quickly tossed it aside, and Remy anxiously ran his hand through his hair.

“Oh, mon dieu…” He breathed.

“You good, Cajun?”

“Oui… Remy be fine.” Gambit sighed, and then gave Logan a mischievous smile. “My hero…” And the X-Men, and FoH members, all stared as Remy curled his arms around Logan, leaned over and captured his mouth with his own.

“Hmmmmm…” Remy hummed into the kiss, running his fingers through the man’s wild hair.

“… I think I like that thank you…” Logan chuckled when the kiss ended.

“Uhg… Get a room…” Warren complained, and headed outside.

“Let’s get home then… and we can git MY room…” Logan chuckled, and Remy grinned as they walked out after Warren, their arms around each other.

“Sound good t’ me, cher… gon’ pounce y’ like a spider do a fly…”

“Lovely…” Cyclops sighed, and linked his arm with Jean, who grinned and joked "we just can't take them anywhere, can we?"

"They are the reason we can't have nice things." Cyclops nodded somberly, and he and Jean walked out of the warehouse. Grinning, the rest of the X-Men followed.


	7. Manscaping

It was looking to be a rare, quiet evening. Smooth New Orleans Jazz was playing softly in the background as three men relaxed on the sofa… Logan sat at one end, reading the paper. Remy sat at the other, reading a magazine. And Spencer was sprawled across the sofa, his head in Logan’s lap, and his feet in Remy’s. Remy was absently stroking Spencer’s feet and ankles as he read his magazine, and Spencer was trying to read a book… but he was having trouble. He was so warm and comfortable, he was staring to doze off… 

Suddenly, Remy lowered his magazine with a “Hehn…” and turned and eyed Logan and up and down with a critical eye. Logan and Spencer turned and looked at him.

“… Whaddya want, Rems?” Logan asked, quirking a brow. 

“Jus’… readin’ dis… some good points an’ advice, really, an’… makes dis Cajun t’ink y’ need a bit o’ work, mon amour…”

“… Work? Define work.” Logan snorted.

“Jus’ some hygiene. Groomin’… could really use some manscapin’ dere, Wolvie.”

Spencer felt Logan’s body tense.

“Hell no.” The feral mutant growled, now shooting Remy a glare.

“Aw, c’mon now!” Remy pushed, as Logan slid out from under Spencer and got up.

“No!”

“Not like it would hurt y’ none! C’mon, Logan! Fo’ y’ po’ Remy?”

“Poor Remy can go fuck his own fist.” Logan snapped, and Remy stared at him, aghast.

“What de hell?!”

“Um… what are you guys talking about?”

Remy and Logan both turned and looked at Spencer, who had a baffled expression on his face.

“What now, Nightlight?” Remy asked.

“What are you guys talking about?”

“Dat Logan needs some manscapin’, oui?”

“No.” Logan snapped.

“… Manscaping?” Spencer repeated. “What’s that?” Logan and Remy both stared at him for a moment, and then Remy chuckled and stroked Spencer’s hair.

“Awww… Y’ be so cute an’ innocent, mon soleil…” He cooed, then stood and sashayed over to Logan, unbuckling his belt as he went. Logan froze, eyes fixed on his lover’s movements as he was hit with Remy’s Charm, full force. Then Remy dropped his pants and stepped out of them. And God, he wasn’t wearing anything underneath. Then the Cajun was right in front of him, with that sinful look on his face as he slowly dropped to his knees, hands caressing Logan’s hips. Then they were unbuckling his belt and unbuttoning his jeans… the zipper slid down its track and then his jeans were being pushed down off of his hips and down his thighs to his knees and then—

Wait, Remy had stopped. He was standing, turning to stand beside Logan and then, “Dis,” Remy announced, gesturing to his naked groin and genitals, “be manscapin’… An’ dat?” He gestured to Logan. “Ain’t.” Logan glared.

“Ya sunnovabitch…” He growled, livid that Remy had used his Charm on him like that… just for… THIS.

Spencer just stood there, gawking at his lovers’, well… at their bared penises.

“Uhhh…”

“Be de groomin’ of de hair, cher.” Remy announced. “Ain’t got much, me. Leas’ not compared t’ Wolvie, here. But keep mine neat an’ trimmed, oui?” And drawing a gulp from Spencer, he ran his fingertips down the treasure trail of fine, copper colored hairs that started beneath his navel and ran down to his crotch. “Logan? He don’t.” And he turned and actually grabbed a handful of hair on the man’s stomach and tugged, making Logan yelp, startled, and then smack his hand away.

“Back off, bub.” He snapped, grabbing his pants and tugging them back up again.

“Remy jus’ trim t’ings up a bit when he need to.” Remy grinned, seeming to have no qualms about standing there in a long sleeved shirt and wooly socks and… nothing else. “Logan? He prolly be like shearin’ a sheep, non?”

“Fuck off, swamp rat.” Logan spat, and stormed out of the room.

“Was all that really necessary?” Spencer drawled, giving Remy a look.

“Mais oui!!!” Remy exclaimed with a laugh. “Ah, well… Got somet’in’ I need t’ take care of, me. See y’ fo’ dinner!” And Remy tugged up his pants and waltzed out of the room. Spencer sighed and shook his head, deciding to get a bit more reading done before dinner.

And an hour later, he was heading downstairs. He met Logan on the way, who smelled like he had just finished smoking. Spencer smiled to himself when Logan’s nostrils flared; it was the feral’s instinct to scent his mate whenever they met after time apart… even a simple hour. He had to ensure that his mate was well. Spencer reached out a hand and brushed it over the man’s broad chest, before resting it on his shoulder as he leaned in and gently kissed a scruffy cheek. The Wolverine let out a soft rumble that he would deny, to his dying breath, was a purr.

“Where’s Gumbo?”

“I don’t know.” Spencer shrugged, falling in beside Logan as they headed to the dining room. “He left a few minutes after you did.” Logan snorted slightly, raising his eyes as they heard laughter from the dining room. When they stepped in, they found most of the X-Men were already there. Bishop was looking a bit embarrassed, which was out of character for the man, and Rogue, two seats down, was feigning annoyance. “So she came at us,” Bishop sighed, waving a hand at Rogue, “And all we could do was laugh. I asked Gambit if laughing was wise… and he told me to keep laughing, or she would kill us.” Spencer quirked a brow. “Though why she would have killed me, I have no idea. LeBeau was the one who threw the pie.”

“Fuh stahters…” Rogue spoke up, rolling her eyes. “Remy an’ Ah were havin’ a nice romantic picnic lunch. YOU were the one that crashed it, Sugah. Remy wouldn’t have thrown mah pie if you hadn’t picked a fight. An’ there’s also the part where he was AIMIN’ fuh YOU!”

“Like any man would have, I dodged.” Bishop snorted in his defense.

“Hah!” Rogue barked. “You started the fight, and YOU dodged the pie, and let it hit me!”

“I didn’t LET it!” Bishop insisted over all the laughter.

“If Bishop was seriously trying to hurt Gambit…” Jubilee asked, grinning, “then, like… why throw a PIE in a counter attack?! Was it charged?”

“Because Gambit’s a smart ass, that’s why.” Rogue huffed, rolling her eyes. 

“I think I need to hear this story in it’s entirety later…” Spencer announced, sitting down beside Logan at the end of the table.

“Ah’m sure Remy can tell ya later.” Rogue said, looking up as Jean emerged from the kitchen, several platters with dinner on it floating before her. And with her, carrying a couple of pitchers of water for the table, was Remy. Remy was grinning, and Jean was clearly laughing at something he had said. Remy casually placed one pitcher of water at one end of the table, and then carried the other down to the other end, where he took his seat beside Spencer. Then, grinning, he pulled something out of his duster’s pocket.

“Here y’ go, Wolvie!” And he tossed something up into the air, past Spencer, where Logan skillfully caught it, blinking in surprise. He eyed the little tub, and turned it around, and his eyes nearly bugged out.

“… Hair removal wax?” Kitty asked from where she sat next to Logan. “What’s that for?”

“Dat’s be fo’ dat manscapin’ we was talkin ‘bout earlier!” Remy announced cheerfully. The entire table went dead silent, and every pair of eyes fixed on Logan.

“… Logan is MANSCAPING?!” Jubilee squealed. “EWWWW!!! We did NOT need to KNOW that, Remy!” And then the table exploded into chaos. Half of the table was laughing hysterically, while the others loudly expressed their horror and displeasure at learning this. At the head of the table, Charles Xavier slumped back and massaged his forehead, while Scott just braced his elbow on the table and let his face fall into his hand.

But no one could miss the distinctive SNIKT!

“Mon dieu!” Remy yelped, bolting from his chair. Logan’s chair clattered to the floor as he went after the Cajun with a roar, while the little tub rolled across the table and bumped to a stop against Hank’s plate. 

“… I think this is a lost cause for me.” Hank chuckled, plucking it up and putting on his reading glasses, reading the label as Logan chased Remy around the room.

“Why must you two always do this at dinner?!” Storm called over the commotion, trying to be stern and scolding, but… her amused smile kind of ruined the effect that she was going for.

“Spencer?” Rogue sighed, looking at him.

Spencer snorted into his water. “It never ceases to amaze me, that you all actually think I have any say in what they do.” But he reached out with his telepathy and commanded them both to ‘Knock if off and sit down. It’s dinner time! Stop making a scene!’

Remy waited until Logan was firmly planted in his chair again before he skittered over and plopped down in his own, with Spencer between them. Dinner seemed to go peacefully… The hair removal wax wasn’t mentioned… until the end.

Jubilee had been in a steadily building mischievous mood the entire meal. And as they were all starting up dessert, she decided to cause some trouble.

“So… Wolvie? Why are you thinkin’ of manscaping?” She asked, ignoring the X-Men who were now glaring at her as she looked over the tub.

"Oh God..." Kitty half groaned, half giggled. "Seriously, Jubes… Why are we talking about Logan's pubes at the dinner table?!" There was horrified pause, and then an explosion of groans filled the room, while Remy laughed, and Spencer covered his face with his hands. Logan just deadpanned.

“Gimme that!” Logan snapped, grabbing the tub and stalking into the kitchen. A few minutes later, they heard the microwave, and then he returned. His button down shirt was hanging open, and there was a wax strip applied to the very middle of his hairy chest.

“Oh shit!” Was all Alex Summers managed to get out before—

RRRRIP!!!

“AAAHG!!!” Logan roared, over the shouts of shock and sympathy from the table. “That fuckin HURTS!!!! Why the fuck would ANYONE want to do that?!” The feral roared, even as the reddened skin faded to a normal color. But now, there was a giant bald patch in the middle of his chest. Everyone just GAPED at him; Remy looked particularly stunned and horrified. Logan rebuttoned his shirt and sat down at the table again. “Stop starin’ and eat the damn pie.” He snapped, and the table did so, no one with the guts to say anything… hell, no one knew WHAT to say. 

Dessert was awkward. And silent. At the end, when several people were glancing around, as if too afraid to excuse themselves from the table, Logan finally spoke up. 

“Ain’t doin’ no ‘mancapin’, Cajun. There ain’t no point.” And he rose from the table, unbuttoned his shirt and opened it. And everyone stared.

The hair had grown back.

Without another word, Logan took his plate to the kitchen, and headed outside for a smoke.

“… Nice going, Gambit.” Bobby snorted. Remy cringed under the collective glared of virtually the whole table.

“Uh… right. Remy gon’ go try t’… talk ‘is way outta de dog house…”

“At the rate you’re going,” Spencer said, cooly, “you’ll be out of the dog house and just on a chain in the yard.”

“… Merci, Spencer.” Remy drawled, voice dripping in sarcasm. Then he turned and left the room. Spencer sat there for a moment, glaring at his empty plate, then let out a loud, frustrated sigh and moved to follow Remy…

Logan had, unsurprisingly, gone out back for a smoke. Remy was approaching nervously… Spencer felt Remy’s anxiety shoot up at the realization that Logan he locked his emotions down tight; he wasn’t letting Remy feel a damned thing…

“… Logan?” Remy called, approaching with caution. “Cher?” The blue eyes flicked over briefly, then returned to staring down at the moon sparkling on the surface of the lake. “Uh… Look… Desole, Logan… Je suis desole…” Logan said nothing. He lowered his cigar and blew out a plume of smoke. “Neve’ meant t’ upset y’…” Logan snorted loudly at that, smirking and flicking some ash from the end of his cigar. Remy flinched and drooped. 

Spencer cocked his head and narrowed his eyes, suspiciously. Logan glanced over at him, and then, quickly, threw him a wink. Spencer quirked a brow… oh Lord, what was Logan up to…?

Logan finished his cigar, and without so much as a glance at Remy, he turned and headed back inside. Remy stared after him, looking thoroughly dejected. But he scrambled to his feet and slunk after the Wolverine, completely crestfallen. Spencer followed after them both, and as they passed the dining room, he heard Alex Summers mutter to the rest of the table, “Jesus… if Gambit had a tail, it would be tucked up so far it would be an atomic wedgie…”

“Alex!” Scott groaned.

The trio made their way up the stairs and to Logan’s room… Inside, Logan, still blatantly ignoring Remy, stripped naked and headed into the bathroom, closing the door behind himself. Spencer blinked when Remy actually whimpered, staring at the bathroom door, completely miserable. He sighed and wrapped his arms around Remy’s waist from behind.

“… Was jus’ a lil’ fun…” Remy managed to get out.

“I don’t think he’s as mad as you think he is.” Spencer smiled, resting his head on Remy’s shoulder and gently kissing his neck. “But I DO think he wants you to WORK to earn forgiveness…”

“How?” Remy asked, and Spencer snickered. 

“Put your Charm to good use.” The genius suggested, slipping away and curling up in Logan’s arm chair with a book, though his eyes followed Remy’s restless pacing more than they did the words on the pages.

When Logan emerged, Remy whipped around to face him. Logan narrowed his eyes slightly and looked Remy up and down, sniffed, and then snorted, jabbing a thumb back over his shoulder towards the bathroom.

“Git.” He snapped, and like a scolded puppy, Remy scurried into the bathroom to shower.

“… You’re being mean.” Spencer drawled, and Logan, who was rubbing himself dry with a towel, chuckled.

“He’ll get over it.”

“Logan… He’s RADIATING insecurity, here.” Spencer pointed out.

“He’ll get over it,” Logan repeated.

“What are you planning?”

“A relaxin’ night where he does all the work.” Logan grinned.

“Oh my God…” Spencer groaned, letting his face fall into the palm of his hand at Logan’s low laughter. The feral tossed his towel towards the hamper and flopped back onto the bed buck naked, folding his hands behind his head, crossing his ankles and saying in a smug tone, “And now we wait.”

“Oh my God!” Spencer blurted, looking torn between horrified and amused.

A few minutes later, and Remy emerged from the bathroom in a towel. His eyes immediately fell on Logan, and he bit his lip before taking a deep breath and tentatively approaching.

“… Logan?” He called. Logan didn’t respond, and Remy cringed. “S’il t’ plait, don’t be like dat… Neve’ meant t’… Remy didn’t mean not’in’ by it...” He sat down on the edge of the bed. “Wolvie… ‘M sorry…” 

Still no response… Remy deflated, head hanging, and reached out, placing his fingers on the feral’s arm.

“… Does it bother ya?” Came the sudden question, and Remy started.

“Quoi?”

“Does it bother ya?” Logan asked again, now opening his eyes and staring into Remy’s remorseful eyes. Remy’s eyes widened and he leaned in, running a hand over Logan’s hairy chest, feeling him.

“Non…” He breathed, bowing his head and now burying his fingers from both hands into the hair, still damp from the shower. “Non…” He murmured, leaning forward and coming to rest his head on the feral’s chest, nuzzling against him. “Remy jus’ bein’…”

“An asshole?” Logan suggested.

“… Oui.”

“Hn.” Logan grunted, but then raised his hand and gently stroked Remy’s hair, wild and disheveled from being tossed about by a brisk towel-drying. This made Remy sigh, and snuggle closer.

“Y’ fo’give Remy?” Came the soft inquiry. 

“… Mebbe…”

Remy lifted his head, now looking down at Logan. “Let Remy make it up t’ you, cher…”

“How.”

“Any way y’ want… las’ t’ing dis t’ief ever want is t’ hurt y’, mon amour…” Remy gasped, emphatically. He wriggled up a bit, cupping Logan’s cheek in his hand and pressing their foreheads together, before rubbing his smooth-shaven cheek over Logan’s bristly one. Then he turned and took the feral’s lips in a kiss that was oh, so soft, and sweet and apologetic. 

Over in the arm chair, Spencer smiled, lowering his book to watch them. He could tell immediately when Logan opened up his emotions to Remy once more, allowing the empath to feel his love. Remy let out a small sob of joy, pressing his forehead to Logan’s once more as the feral said “ya didn’t hurt my feelins, Rem… Takes a helluva lot more’n that ta get me riled up an’ mad… Just had ta gitcha back…”

Remy pouted. “So mean t’ dis po’ boy…”

“Heh.” Logan smirked, folding his hands behind his head. “Ya can start makin’ it up ta me now.”

Remy blinked for a moment, and then smiled, sitting up and pushing his hair out of his face. “Oh… so dat be how it is, hehn?” Logan just grinned.

“C’mon, Cajun… I’m gettin’ cold here.”

“Pfft!” Remy exclaimed, removing his towel and tossing it aside. “De Wolverine? Cold?! Not wit’ dat pelt!” And he placed his hands on Logan’s hips and ran them up his torso, combing his fingers through the thick hair in a luxurious manner, his fingernails scratching pleasantly in a way that Logan just LOVED. “Y’ run ‘round buck ass nekkid in de snow, Wolvie… Don’t t’ink y’ know what cold even be!”

“Ya don’t know cold ‘til y’ get my cold shoulder, Gumbo. And if ya don’t want that, get ta work.”

“Hmmm…” Remy hummed softly, sitting back on his heels and considering the man before him. “Remy need t’ attone fo’ what he done, eh?” He asked, a sultry purr in his tone. A hungry fire ignited in Logan’s eyes as Remy slid off of the bed, every move a picturesque example of sensuality as his Charm began to weave its way around his lovers. Even Spencer now had a heat in his gaze that wasn’t often there…

Remy sashayed around the bed, a little smirk on his lips as he allowed Logan to see him take in the sight of the feral’s body from under long, thick eyelashes. His gaze was smoldering, and it only served to turn Logan on even more when Remy’s tongue darted out, running over his lips even as he let out a low hum of approval. Then, ever the tease, he tore his gaze off of Logan and leaned over to rummage around in the drawer of the bedside table.

Over in the armchair, Spencer was biting his lower lip, trying to fight back the grin that was trying to emerge at the way Logan was virtually hypnotized by their Cajun lover’s movements. His eyes admired the long fingers, so skilled in the arts of thieving, of combat, of love… the elegant limbs, slender but well muscled… He had to swallow a mouthful of saliva as his eyes traced Remy’s defined bicep and deltoid… the thatch of coppery hair under his arm… the sharp angles of his shoulder blade, softened slightly by the trapezius, and then down the curve of his spine to the full swell of his buttocks. 

Of course, Spencer got the full view of THAT, and he was appreciating every moment… Logan’s eyes had drifted down to Remy’s pronounced hip bone, and God, he wanted to pull Remy in close, run his hands over him and nuzzle his face into that spot, the crease where his abdominal muscles ended, and his thigh began… He wanted to run his tongue over his hip, and then just bite… But he maintained control and lay where he was, even as Remy swayed a bit as he finished gathering whatever supplies he felt that he needed. Then, straightening, he turned and faced Logan completely, and Logan bit back a groan as Remy’s Charm sent a pulse of lust sizzling through him and sending all of his blood heading straight to his groin.

“Mmm…” Remy sighed, watching Logan’s eyes follow his fingers as he ran them down his own stomach, stopping just shy of his groin to play over his trail of rust colored hairs, running from his navel downwards. He lifted a leg and slid onto the bed on one knee, slowly drawing his other leg up to follow, even as he leaned over, bracing his weight on his hands on either side of Logan’s hips.

“Voulez-vous de moi?” Remy purred in a husky tone, that sent a shiver down both Spencer, and Logan’s spines… in his chair, Spencer was beginning to squirm, and his book had been set aside. “Voulez-vous me sentir? Ou voulez-vous que je vous sens? Je te veaux… Je veaux te sentir… permettez-moi de vous faire gouter…” Logan groaned as Remy kissed him then.

Spencer was panting softly now as Remy’s words danced through his mind… ‘Do you want me? Do you want to feel me? Or do you want me to feel you? I want you…I want to feel you… let me taste you…’ Now, Spencer watched as Remy did just that, moaning softly as he tasted Logan, dipping his tongue into his mouth as he deepened the kiss. The soft sounds Remy was making were deep and breathy, and sounded much more like the sounds he would expect to hear AFTER the foreplay… not during… but this WAS Remy… 

Logan let out a sigh, his eyes sliding closed as Remy lowered his head and nibbled over the feral’s neck and shoulder, tasting the skin and lapping up the residual drops of water from the shower that remained. He nosed at Logan’s chest, rubbing his cheek over the wild hair before laving delicate attentions onto the man’s nipples. He scraped his fingernails down Logan’s chest and stomach, and then his thighs, feeling the muscles twitch. He nuzzled down the feral’s defined abs, before sliding further. 

Logan groaned when he felt the shocking contrast of Remy’s hot breath on his erect penis, and the shivering cold of locks of still-wet hair brushing over the heated skin. Then Remy was taking him into his mouth with loud moan. Spencer watched, eyes wide, as Remy slid one arm under the small of Logan’s back and draped the other over his thigh, scraping his fingernails over his skin as he devoured his arousal with enthusiasm.

“Oh fuck…” Logan gasped, his blue eyes widening and staring off into space before rolling back into his skull when those callused fingers brushed over his swollen scrotum before taking it firm in hand and beginning to squeeze and massage. He felt Remy squirm closer to his body, felt his chest against his thigh, felt him softly rubbing his own arousal against his calf muscle before bringing a long leg up and draping it over the feral’s shin. Every sound that came from the Cajun sent another tingle of pleasure through him, even as he felt the building lust and desire that his lover was putting off… 

Logan’s keen ears picked up on the sounds of Spencer’s breathing picking up, and even a tiny gasp as he began to caress himself between his legs over his pants as he watched. Then Logan sucked in a breath and rasped out a strained “Oh Jesus,” before he bucked his hips up. Remy took it in stride, taking him all the way into his throat and humming in satisfaction when Logan climaxed, and he swallowed all that he was given. He withdrew slowly, delicately licking over ever inch as he went, and ended with a soft suckling at the very tip.

“Rem…” Logan panted, his hand coming up to cup the back of the rusty head and drawing him up for a kiss. Tasting himself on Remy’s lips sent fireworks off in his brain, and he fought to keep from manhandling his lover down onto the bed and just pounding into him.

When the kiss ended, Remy turned his head and nibbled at Logan’s ear, murmuring softly, “Remy want y’ inside, mon amour…. Wanna feel y’, me… y’ wanna feel Remy?”

“Yes… God, Yes...” Logan panted, far too gone in his arousal to register the sound of Remy opening the lube, but he let out a strangled howl when the skilled hands began to coat his erection that had not flagged… It was still as hard and engorged and ready as ever… Then Remy was moving… he was sitting on Logan’s stomach, his knees squeezing the feral’s ribs as he leaned down and kissed him again, his backside rubbing against Logan’s erection in a horribly teasing manner.

Remy smiled and nibbled Logan’s lower lip when strong hands grasped his hips and squeezed. “Rems… please…” The feral choked out. 

“Hmmmm…” Remy hummed, tugging Logan’s lips with his teeth before releasing it and sitting up, sliding down his body. Logan stared at him, his blue eyes now ringed in gold as a low rumble emanated from his broad chest. Remy smiled, leaning back against Logan’s thighs, as he had brought his knees up. “Y’ want dis, Logan?” Came the sultry purr, the soft sigh as Remy ran his hands down his own chest, stomach, hips, and then down his thighs, only to come back up again. One wrapped around his erection and he stroked himself leisurely with one hand, while the other slid down to fondle what hung beneath before he slipped his fingers further back. As he teased himself, he let his head fall back with a moan, damp hair tickling over Logan’s knees and shins.

“Remy… babe…” Logan choked out as pre-ejaculate welled up from the slit at the head of his penis and began to dribble down. 

Spencer was whining softly from his spot in the arm chair now, his pants having been discarded He was pleasuring himself now as he watched his lovers… He watched as Remy lifted himself and guided Logan’s erection into place, and when Remy began to sink down, impaling himself on Logan’s significant ache, Spencer pushed his fingers into himself with a moan.

Logan groaned, rough and low, as he was buried to the hilt in his lover’s body. His grip on slender hips tightened, and Remy gasped softly as his inner muscles fluttered and contracted around Logan’s girth. He bit his lip and squirmed a bit at the burning pain; he had not done any preparation beyond lubricating Logan’s length. With a moaning sigh, Remy leaned back against Logan’s legs again, his hands caressing his own inner thighs as he savored the feeling of being full. He felt a smile touch his lips as he heard Spencer behind him, moaning softly as he masturbated to the sight of Remy and Logan.

“Come on, darlin’…” Logan huffed then, bucking his hips and bringing a soft cry from Remy. But the Cajun moved with him, riding the motion and then following it up with his own, rolling his hips in a delicious manner that made his body move and undulate in a blatantly tempting motion that captured the gaze of both of his lovers and igniting new levels of lust within them both.

Then he was lifting himself up, shivering at the smooth gliding sensation of Logan’s manhood slipping out of his body, and then that sizzling pleasure as he dropped down, body swallowing it eagerly. Remy moaned at the sensation and ran his fingers through his hair with a hiss as he took up a slow, teasing rhythm to torment both Logan and himself with the pleasure. The blood was singing in their veins and their hearts were pounding in their ears as the movements of their bodies began to carry them onwards towards heaven. 

Remy pressed one hand to his muscled stomach, rubbing it as though expecting to feel the fullness in his core as he took Logan into himself, over and over again… And the he was leaning forward again, sliding his hands up Logan’s body and burying his fingers in the hair on his chest, and the pair staring into one another’s eyes as they moved together, tasting one another’s breaths on their lips as they felt their orgasm building.

“Logan…” Remy panted, his eyes glassy and his cheeks flushed. “S’il t’plait… ah Dieu… Y-Y’ cum into Remy now, oui? Need t’ feel it, me… need y’… oh, bon Dieu, Logan… Please… Wolvie… please!”

“Remy…” Logan choked out, throwing his head back and screwing his eyes shut as he held Remy’s hips in a bruising grip and pulled him down even as he thrust his hips up, drilling in as deep as he could and holding there as he roared “Aw, fuck, Rems… FUCK!”

Remy arched his back and his head rolled limp as he released a high cry as he felt Logan release within him, the heat pouring into him in strong pulses that slowly ebbed. Remy took his own erection in hand and in two strokes he was announcing his own orgasm with a high keen. Behind him, he vaguely registered Spencer’s cry as Remy’s empathic wave washed over him, sending him careening down into the abyss after his two lovers.

Remy slumped forwards then, snuggling down against Logan’s body and humming softly as those strong arms wrapped around him in a warm embrace… and then they were rolling, and Remy was pinned under Logan’s weight, and he was letting out a broken cry as Logan’s hips began to move between his legs, pumping in and out, his still-hard length rubbing and massaging the overstimulated nerves and bringing Remy around to thrash weakly beneath him as he fought to both enjoy, and escape the sensations that were a bit much on him at the moment. But Logan wouldn’t let him go… he pinned the Cajun down and nipped over his throat, smirking when Remy let out a strangled shout as he came dry before going limp. 

Once more, Logan pushed in hard and flooded his lover’s body with his fluids, and then he wrapped his arms around him, held him close and they rested. As Spencer came down from his high, he smiled; Logan was purring, and gently nuzzling Remy with his nose behind the Cajun’s ear, inhaling the young thief’s scent. Reid rose, shedding his clothes and heading into the bathroom for his own shower, and upon emerging, he found himself standing over his lovers and smiling down at them. They were as they had been when he had gone into his shower. 

Remy was on his back, with Logan sprawled out on top of him. Spencer had heard some comments and jokes from the other X-Men about Logan squashing them under his significant weight, but Remy actually enjoyed it. He found it comforting, being tucked under the weight of his lover’s body… he felt safe… protected. His head was turned away from Logan, and the feral still had his face buried in Remy’s hair, and he was still purring softly. The pair were still asleep. When Spencer lifted the sheets to join them, he gasped and felt a shiver run through him when he caught sight of their bodies, still linked, Logan firmly embedded in Remy…

Spencer swallowed and flicked off the lights, sliding into the bed. He gasped, startled, when a stroung arm wrapped around him and tugged him in close, and his eyes widened in the dark when he heard the wet, slick sound of the pair separating, and Remy’s soft moan in response to it. Then Logan was gathering them both close, hugging them tightly to his body. Spencer smiled, resting his head on the man’s furry chest just over his chest, and then soft lips pressed against his own.

“Enjoy de show, mon soleil?” Remy asked, his voice low and sleepy.

“Mmmm… very much…” Spencer sighed, and he smiled as Logan chuckled softly, running a hand up and down his boys’ spines. “Be honest, Rem…” Spencer murmured then. “If he could uh… manscape…” Logan growled, but Spencer ignored him. “And he did… wouldn’t you miss it?”

“Hmmm…” Remy sighed, once more running his fingers over the furry chest, and nuzzling into it as he admitted, “Oui… I would, me.”

“No more being mean to Logan then.” Spencer said firmly.

“Mais oui… Remy be nice.”

“Shaddup. I’m tryin’ ta sleep.”

“You be in dat place between sleep an’ awake, Wolvie?” Remy asked, grinning as the feral growled. But it faded when Spencer leaned up and gently kissed his jaw with a soft, “that’s where I’ll always love you.”

“That’s where I’m waitin’…” Logan mumbled. “Now shaddup and come join me.”

And grinning, Spencer and Remy did so.


End file.
